


Oh, Devil

by Peaterparker



Series: If You Wanna Find Hell With Me [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove Needs a Hug, Billy trying to survive in general, Conspiracies, Experiment Billy Hargrove, F/M, Good Parent Joyce Byers, Jim Hopper keeps adopting children he has no idea how to help, M/M, Max has good memories of Billy and I'm gonna use that to my advantage, More tags to be added, Neil Hargrove's A+ Parenting, PTSD, Steve is trying to keep it together, Steve trying to understand his feelings, a LOT of warm/cold comparisons because i am shameless, anxiety mentions, being stalked by the government, everyone's panicking and hiding their life styles, food disorder mentions, not super dialogue heavy in the beginning but that might change, other triggering situations to be added once posted in chapter notes, she's the party's mom, starts out with Steve's pov but eventually will switch around, this is gonna be a long ride
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2020-10-17 21:42:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 112,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20627987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peaterparker/pseuds/Peaterparker
Summary: Steve tried living like nothing had happened, tried going through the motions and where exactly did that land him? Full of even more questions, more papers signed and more eyes watching his every move. Starcourt is a constant loop behind his closed eyes, chest tight over a death he didn't know how to grieve for but somehow managed to obsess over. It felt cold, living a mirror of his life before it monumentally changed, ice sliding up his spine and frozen fingers digging into his ribs. He could leave, but then he could just disappear.Billy remembered life before the cell. Remembered how it felt to be warm, sweat curling around the muscles of his chest, glistening and glowing. He remembered the shadow monster but mostly remembered the cold. The ice that gripped his throat, heart clutched in a claw shaped hand. He could push now, branch his thoughts out to a warmer place, a happier place. He could push, but then he could also just appear.





	1. Sometimes it's hard to learn from all of your mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> Story title and chapter titles based off Oh Devil by Electric Guest.  
Not quite a Harringrove song, but it bops.  
Also my first foray into this fandom outside of loving the show since S1 so I beg you to please take it easy on me.

The moon lit the road enough that he was sure he could turn the headlights off and still navigate perfectly. He was almost tempted, hand reaching for the lever only to snap back with the sharp noise from the stereo. He thought of the thrill, driving in the dark on an unknown back road in an unknown town and an unknown state. Thought of a joyful whoop that would ring through the air that was snapping at his hair, windows down completely and cool wind whipping against the arm he had leaning out into the night. The car was empty around him, memories of kids arguing over stat levels on characters he couldn’t keep up with, of a boy filled with poison and hurt that broke down everything he thought he knew, of a friend who fought so hard he lost himself entirely. 

Sometimes he turned his head and caught the flash of dark blonde curls passing him, could hear the haunting chuckle coming off a sarcastic ass comment, could see something flash in someone’s blue eyes and felt the emotions roll right across him. He had once picked up a boy who was walking down the road in the middle of the night. He was up, terrified of the noises reverberating around his home and between his ears. Couldn’t shake the feeling that the big fucking monster was in his backyard again, watching and waiting for him to reach the water, had to leave before he broke everything in his empty castle. 

The figure was in the middle of the road, moved over enough for him to pass once the headlights became more noticeable. He knew who it was as soon as he saw the denim jacket and the hair. Steve contemplated just driving by, ignoring Hargrove and hitting the twenty four hour convenience store before driving by the kids’ places, bat in the passenger seat waiting. The blood he could start to see staining parts of the denim jacket had him pausing, foot slightly pressing the brake to help him achieve a better look. One of Hargrove’s arms was holding his ribs, arm crossed over torso and clenching tight if the white knuckles were anything to go by.

He made up his mind and rolled the window down. 

“Hargrove?” Steve bent his neck down to peer out of the passenger window, watching Hargrove as he froze and then turned sharply in the opposite direction. Something came over Steve, he threw the car in park and jumped out. “Hey, where the hell are you going?” He didn’t shout, but let enough of his emotion reach his voice to give Hargrove pause.

“Fuck off, Harrington. Figures the one fucker in this town that’s up all night is you.” Hargrove shook his head, huffing an unamused laugh then brushed Steve off, turning and continuing his walk away from Steve. 

“It’s three in the morning, where are you going?” Steve didn’t have to jog to catch up, long legged strides matching Hargrove’s pace within seconds. Nevermind leaving his car running, much less caring about it being on the wrong side of the road in the first place. It was real witching hours and that’s what Steve was going to blame this complete lack of thought on. The earth opened up and the ghosts of mistakes pasts were tearing him out of the car, chasing a fever dream of a bloodied boy. 

“None of your goddamn business.” Hargrove peaked an annoyed look at him from the corner of Steve’s eyesight, shook his head again and used his free hand to pat around for his cigarettes. 

Somewhere between four and five in the morning Steve began to think Hargrove was hurt worse than he could asses. The blood on the jacket either wasn’t Hargrove’s or he had stopped sluggishly bleeding hours ago, Steve considered that a small mercy. His was face purple and yellow, bruising hadn’t faded quite enough before the new marks were made, his nose was split on the bridge and both nostrils had flakey brown rivers from them. His lip was split, his left eye was swelling closed and he sounded like breathing was becoming less and less of an option and more of an inconvenience. 

Around six he realized Hargrove was walking in circles. They happened upon Steve’s car again, the third time in their walk around Loch Nora. He knew exactly where they were every time Hargrove took a corner, not paying attention to anything except the insistent breaking down of the boy next to him. The entirety of the three hours they spent walking the streets not a word was spoken. They smoked and looked at each other from the corners of their eyes. One time Hargrove opened his mouth to say something then played it off like he was checking his jaw. Steve pointed to his car when they reached it.

“Get in,” he said, “I’ll drive you home before the sun comes up.” He didn’t think Hargrove could walk much more, the staggering around empty neighborhoods with his pained breathing broke down any fear Steve might have of being confined in a car with him. He looked like he wanted to turn Steve down, tell him to fuck off again and then he looked at the sky and nodded.

The open sky caught his eye again and he thought of a mall, captivating and new, thought of royal blue and firetruck red, polar opposites. Florida was different than he had expected. The humidity changed through Tennessee, got down right devilish in Georgia, and then turned into something much worse than Satan’s armpit crossing Florida lines. Even at night, the humidity turned the ends of his hair up and made it look bigger than any Farrah Fawcett hairspray ever could. He might just stay based on that fact alone. But he expected the heat. He expected the weirdly southern hospitality he received in some parts, hospitality a lot like Hawkins but with the word ‘hoosier’ thrown around a lot more, saw the run down towns that reminded him slightly of the outer parts of Hawkins. 

Hopper had sent him here. They had originally searched through all the cold states first, figuring if any other dimensional thing was going to be rebuilding it would start somewhere comfortable but there wasn’t any leads or much luck. Murray Bauman wasn’t even on board, grieving his own loss and nursing his own what ifs. They had a lot of trouble even finding any kind of strange supernatural happenings so Hop thought it would be worth looking into, a lead was a lead and he would do anything to find his objective. Steve had to keep himself from thinking about it too much. He kept it like a business casual vacation. There was too much going on and he got too distracted on minor details before that now he’s not sure if he’s chasing a fucking ghost or running in discombobulated circles like that early morning so long ago. It’s been a year since the battle of Starcourt. A year since he watched someone he once loathed beyond a doubt save a town that didn’t mean a fucking thing to him. A year of guessing who had his body, what had they done to him, the casket was closed if the story added up then why the fuck was the casket closed why-

Will was the one that mentioned Dr. Owens’ face when he looked over Billy- and he’s Billy now in Steve’s mind, which really settles like a stone in his gut- in the end. Mentioned how his eyes got wide, but not with sadness or fear? But with excitement. He was impressed at how Billy was a vessel for the Mind Flayer, stayed by Billy’s body the entire time the men in suits busied themselves with covering the truth, and disappeared into the same nondescript van they put the board carrying Billy. Max said it took three weeks to even get a body back. That’s exactly how she said it too, a body. Not his body or simply Billy, but a body. They did the same thing to Will, stuffed a casket with a body that wasn’t the one expected. He couldn’t trust that Owens wouldn’t have done it again. 

So. Florida. A report of four missing people in a small town between Gainesville and Tampa. He had problems finding the town on the map that Hop had given him, so remote that only locals knew where it was. Something felt right, him facing down a gate that could possibly end his time here as he knew it, hurtling towards something bigger than him with the promise of finding at least a piece of the story to Billy’s whereabouts. He was worried that they put that fucking thing back in him, talked quietly at nights with the other adults about how if Billy was such an easy vessel last time why couldn’t they just find a way to make him the gate?

Nancy let him say what he had to say, attempt to grieve over someone he didn’t even know how to grieve for, kept him focussed when he drifted too far. Jonathan kept shooting them glances, conversations held between him and Nancy by facial expression and eyes alone, and Steve felt like he intruded on that more than anything. He felt empty, majority of the time at least, confused on how it got to this point in the first place. He hated Billy Hargrove. But he also didn’t know a fucking thing about the guy and that bothered Steve when he’d try to close his eyes to sleep. The guilt was immense, largely growing each and every day he had to look into Max’s eyes and see the haunted shell she was when she thought no one was looking.

Max explained it to him, one night in front of the Wheeler’s while Steve flicked his zippo and chain smoked cigarettes, how Billy was before things got bad. He was never warmly interested in siblings, never really got close to her mom, but he still took her to get milkshakes after school and took her to the pier. He pointed out types of fish, how to spot a riptide and what to do if she ever got caught in one, took dorky pictures in a photobooth that had really shitty beach frames around each square. He’d take her record shopping with him, laugh when she said a Madonna poster would fit in with all the busty blondes taped up in his room, needled him about showing her how to make mixtapes. 

He taught her to skate, to surf, to tuck her feelings deep down and grin like a shark in bloodied water. Taught her how to slink around under Neil’s gaze without actually being seen, how to call someone out on bullshit even if it didn’t matter, how to throw a punch without fucking her knuckles up. Taught her how to shoot basketballs and hit baseballs, how to talk to people who thought you weren’t shit, how to make the most of a situation and turning it into her benefit when she needed to. Told her “well Susan ain’t gonna raise ya to rebel so you might as well learn from the fucking master.” That led to Star Wars matinees and shaved ice from the cart while strolling the beach. 

When she got in trouble and went to him first he would be an asshole, make her feel kinda shitty then turn around and try to take the blame, fix the situation. She never heard the arguments but she saw the bruises. Neil never took it easy on Billy. Billy never yelled at her the way he did in Hawkins until the night that ended in him sitting in the emergency room and Neil on the phone with a realtor from Indianapolis. She had gotten misty eyed, staring out into the distance where the yard met the underbrush of the trees. 

“It was my fault,” she whispered. Steve made a soft sound, reaching out to touch her shoulder before she continued. “I told Neil. Billy had left me home for three days because I broke his guitar trying to show off for my friends, and I told Neil about the boy that Billy kept running off with.” She covered her mouth and sobbed. “I’ve regretted it since that day three years ago, Steve.” 

Max took a deep breath, wiped her cheeks off then stood and went back into the house. Steve stared up at the sky, different than the new Florida horizon he currently had, and wondered why couldn’t Billy have been saved. Why hadn’t anyone noticed when the bruises were more than a black eye, but a hand print around his throat or burn marks on his arms? It fucked with Steve’s image of Billy. Turned him from positively psycho to someone who was acting out and should’ve been listened to. He made it incredibly difficult to even want to be empathetic towards him but he still had deserved someone to be, didn’t he? 

The stereo crackled again and brought Steve back to the present moment. Only about ten more minutes until he gets to his motel. Hopefully. He had to call Hop from the lobby, make sure the party knew he was safe and had landed without a hitch. They kept conversation short, afraid of who might be listening when the line lagged between Hop asking him how the ride was and Steve answering “too long and also not long enough.” 

It was hauntingly dark out when Steve made it upstairs with his duffel bag, the parking lot light posts not nearly bright enough to reach this far and he held his breath while he slid the key card through and waited for the lights to blink fast up at him. He thought of Joyce as he went through his night routine, washing the day’s travel off himself and eating something more than peanut butter crackers, thought of her warm smiles while her eyes checked over his face and body as if going through a mental checklist. She taught him how to be soft, compassionate, even in the end of times. 

He’s started referring to how they’re living now as the end times. They hide in places they shouldn’t, ears to the ground to hear anything, watching the skies and the roads, still hiding in the woods but more of a preparedness now than a blind panic. Joyce was a constant weight wherever Steve went. It was like she had picked out the kids that needed her mothering the most and collected them. Mike, Lucas and Dustin all had their own moms who, even unknowingly, protected them. Steve hasn’t heard from his mom in five months. He hasn’t heard from his dad in a year. Joyce may not be his mom, he may not fit in with this Byers-Hopper family, but they never exclude him and don’t pretend he’s not talking when he is, that he’s not just five feet to the left but right in front of them. Jonathan and Will treat him as a brother and it’s… nice. It’s warm and friendly and there’s bountiful inside jokes that Steve is part of. 

But… but it’s not like his mom was actually worried. His dad stopped talking to him when he lost Scoops Ahoy, and consequently his future trust fund, but his mom didn’t let that drag her down too much. She still had hope, excitement that maybe now he’ll decide college was for him and he would like to make more than three bucks an hour. The night his dad kicked him out, he slept in his car in one of the back parking lots off Main, four months after Starcourt, Steve thought he saw Billy. He so vividly saw the same retreating figure, the same blood patterns on the denim jacket, felt the same ache in his chest when he wouldn’t turn around at the sound of Steve’s horn. 

Steve tells his mom he’s taking time off from work and school to travel. Thinks she’ll actually be excited that he might find some place and put his pieces back together. He calls her from the first motel in Michigan, three weeks after leaving Hawkins. It goes to a voicemail machine that hasn’t been set up yet. He calls three, four more times in his travels. Gets the housekeeper twice, doesn’t leave messages behind just hangs up when the automated tone blares through the receiver. He calls on his mom’s birthday and she answers, crying. Tells him it’s no good, stop calling, it’s making things worse for him, his father isn’t happy about the constant reminder of their biggest failure. 

The look on his face at the rendezvous point just outside of Chicago has Joyce dropping everything and tugging him into her arms. She’s a full head shorter than him but she still manages to get kisses to his temples, rubbing over his shoulder blades and squeezing the back of his neck. It’s the first time in fucking months he can breathe easily and he almost chokes on it. Almost tells her everything right there, about the constant battle with his life and who he’s supposed to be, who he was born to be, the guilt and mixed emotions about a certain Billy Hargrove shaped hole in the universe, the inadequacies of his actions and the feelings coursing through his veins that make his hands shake so hard he jerks the steering wheel if he loses his mind for even a second. But she just looks up at him, tears in her eyes with a watery smile, and tells him she’s so happy he’s home. 

The kids only know so much of what they’re doing. Forced to focus on school and other extracurriculars. Steve prefers it this way, dreams of Dustin screaming and screaming and screaming under Russian control. Watches them sigh on Sunday evenings, sad that they have to spend another week away from what they’ve been claiming as their ‘true calling.’ Nancy thinks it’s hilarious while Steve gets annoyed that they want to keep living like this. He knows he’s sure as shit had enough of this. Misses the days when slinging ice cream was the prime entertainment of his life, didn’t have to question his scoop just followed the routine and protocol. Now everything is up in the air, a new motel room every week and a new interstate to follow down and down and down. No stability, no functionality just non-processed panic and rock hits on the radio.

Steve spends a lot of time on the walkie, checking in on Dustin, making sure his mom’s new cat hasn’t been eaten by anything. He left the walkie in Chicago, finally decided to do something alone. Dustin was furious, cussing up a storm on the phone outside a small lake in Tennessee. It made Steve laugh, hearing muttered swears from the group, talking about what an idiot with a death wish he was. The same things they said when he got intent on finding Billy’s body or at least the truth of what happened to him. 

He puts his bat in the motel closet and hangs the do not disturb sign on the handle outside. Turns the radio on to white noise and waits.


	2. Guess I should learn how to live because it won't go away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay! I've decided waiting is awful and I'm just going to post everything as fast as I can today wow.  
chapter warnings for:  
-internalized homophobia (very brief, like veeeeery brief)  
-various drug mentions (not so much in this chapter, but upcoming yes)  
-panic attacks  
-major character death described from steve's perspective  
-torture vaguely mentioned

Steve knew he wasn’t the sharpest. He knew how he struggled in school, college not being an option and failing his father for the umpteenth time. Despite all the tallies in the ‘you suck’ section of Robin’s board, he knew people. Knew how to talk to someone without feeling off footed, knew how to steer conversations and open verbal doorways that some people might not. Silver tongued, Hop had said one night when they were in Chicago. A smile, bright eyes and a sweet mouth. People tend to just tell Steve things he shouldn’t know anyways, for some strange reason. Like Tommy’s mom used to tell Steve all the times that Tommy’s dad wasn’t going to be home, never invited him for anything thank God but still made sure he knew. Natalie Martel always told him what color her underwear was, giggled after she realized what she said and then would ignore him for a week. Hanna Burress was the second girl to come out to him, in a bathroom nonetheless, and that’s when Steve started wondering if there was something written on his forehead.

Robin usually traveled with him but Florida was a deal breaker for her. She was starting college in Maine, so excited and ready to move on with her life from something so horrifying. Steve couldn’t let her miss her shot at normal. He told her to send postcards, joked about going girl crazy and forgetting her favorite dingus. There were tears in both of their eyes when Steve packed up his BMW and Robin’s dad honked for her to leave for Maine. They had traveled to New York, Massachusetts, and along the Canadian border. Spent months living out of each other’s pockets, sharing small moments of calm and lukewarm cups of coffee while staring at maps and flipping through newspapers. Grocery shopped when fast food became boring, kept a low profile but still explored the neighborhoods around their motels. Drove all night trying to hear a high pitched echo of a scream from the woods and empty parts of towns. Check in calls were interesting when Robin detailed their days and nights completely while Steve mumbled a simple “no sign of Billy yet, Hop.” 

They talked about Billy twice. Well, they talked about Billy at least three times an hour, but they really got into him twice. Robin had rolled her eyes, said something about “piece of shit” and Steve went defensive. Grabbed his hair at the roots and tugged, trying to keep the vitriol down like swallowing bile, breathing harshly as Robin stared at him almost shocked. 

“Oh.” She whispered. “Oh, Steve…” There were tears gathering along her bottom lashes and she reached a hand out to grab his shoulder. 

“It’s not- don’t- fuck!” Steve sucked in a breath, counting to ten and letting it out. “I’m not- I’m not gay, Robs. I just… I just feel fucking gutted about this.” His voice was shaking, his hands were shaking, his vision was watery and he could almost, almost, hear a Hargrove-esque voice brashly telling him to get his shit together in his head. “No one helped him, no one even noticed other than the kids! We had a chance to cut this off at the head, to really ensure that this gate shit was over and now? Now-”

“Steve, no.” Robin wasn’t harsh but she was firm. “You can’t blame yourself or anyone else really, this was so far beyond anything we could have controlled.”

“He didn’t have to go through that alone!” Steve yelled, unsure if he meant the Mind Flayer or Neil Hargrove. “He didn’t have to suffer.”

“Billy Hargrove made his own decision, in the end.” Robin shook her head slightly. “You saw it just as well as I did, he used himself to save all of us.” She sighed, ran a hand through her hair, pulling pieces from the messy bun it was in. “But what would’ve happened if we had been around him like that? Would we have been melted down, formed into an interdimensional alien body too? Would the Mind Flayer have even allowed us to get that close? Don’t forget our own stint of helplessness when we were actually tortured by Russians, Steve. We weren’t exactly in a position to offer help from a million floors below the mall.”

Steve shook his head, grabbing his keys and sighing. He left Robin sitting at the small table overlooking the parking lot in their room and went to find food. Thought of days where Tommy sold hemp as pot to truckers, when having to out run or even out drive an angry trucker was the worst kind of adrenaline he could deal with. The stress of someone almost beating his ass constantly because of Tommy a far cry from demogorgons and mind flayers. 

Now Steve watches his first Florida sunrise and hopes the heat doesn’t burn him. His hands are cupping a mug of steaming coffee, lean fingers overlapping and his knees pressed to his chest. The seat he’s perched upon on the balcony of the small two story motel is cruddy, broken ashtray on a rusty iron table that wobbles when any weight is put on it, the smell of grass is stronger than he’s ever experienced with a hint of rain, the coffee is dark but it’s weak. He was promised Cuban coffee, the sign in the lobby downstairs exclaimed it was the best in town, but he was woefully let down. The Cuban coffee his dad had brought home from a trip to Miami was astounding. He couldn’t believe it was legal, sucked it down in five minutes and didn’t sleep for three damn days. 

His first thoughts of Florida were about how green it was. Not the same green as Hawkins. Hawkins was a dark green, a green you could get lost in. In Florida everything was glowing. The sun shone off every leaf, every blade of grass, every weed twisting in the wind. It felt like something sacred to see and feel this much light, glow in the sun like he was meant to be. The goldeness of it all brought uncomfortable thoughts to the forefront, of tanned skin and a smirk. Blue eyes winking and shimmering like the pool they often sat in front of, deep voice calling his name out to him with amusement and interest laced through it in an almost taunting way. A hard edged voice and a sneer, a plate crashing into his face at breakneck force with a wild laugh. A lonely soul walking around, as if in a purgatory of some kind, bloodied and beaten and so warm to be around at the same time. 

He closed his eyes and soaked up the steady warmth, the earth around him defrosting and sighing with relief. Opened himself up to the feeling, defrosted himself minutely to show he was still here, still breathing, still warm. He must’ve fallen asleep that way because there was absolutely no fucking way Billy Hargrove was sitting next to him when he looked over to set his mug down. Steve startled, but kept his focus, eyes entirely on Billy. His face was taut, shoulders still broad but more narrow, like he lost too much weight and resulted in extremely lean muscle. His eyes had dark rings around them, but no bruising or busted lips. He was pale, his hair had been cut so short it made Steve think of how Tommy’s hair had grown out after his dad had buzzed it off for fighting in middle school. Long enough to curl awkwardly but not long enough to run his hands through the lengths. He wore a blank white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. He was barefoot, like Steve, slender feet sliding along the concrete in search of heat. Nothing indicating he was in pain or had been hurt. A silver scar went from under his shirt, over a collarbone and up the side of his throat. 

It was the only physical reminder Steve could see from Starcourt and he felt bile rise up in his throat, wanted to chase the scar with the tip of his finger until he saw what sat on Billy’s chest and ribs. Remembered watching the Mind Flayer stab itself through Billy’s torso, seeing black blood choking Billy and flowing from nearly everywhere in his body. Remembered hearing Max’s sobs, watching Billy’s face slack and then blank entirely, Robin’s hand on his shoulder and Nancy’s sad eyes on the scene. The kids each said a small farewell to Billy, El lingering the longest behind Max, a thank you for saving them and each with the same question of why couldn’t he have just- 

Billy looked back at Steve, a blank look in his eyes that shook him to the core, like he knew what Steve was thinking and might’ve been thinking about it too. He reached out, slowly, fingers twitching slightly before he picked up Steve’s pack of Marlboros and his zippo. Billy turned his head out to the parking lot, exhaling smoke and huffing a small sigh. Steve hated how good it felt to see him like this, to see the small details his mind had forgotten over time, a refreshing breath of warm air that Billy was still alive.

“Look, it’s cute what you and your little nerd friends are trying to do here, Harrington, but I’m fucking lost, man. I have no clue where I’m even at right now, how I’m talking to you and seeing this but locked in a reinforced cinder block room.” He waved his hand to the orange-pink sky, eyes meeting Steve’s briefly before he looked back to the sun rise.

“So you know we’re looking for you, then?” Steve asked, voice low and concerned. Watched Billy furrow his brow, release the tension in his face and meet Steve’s eyes.

Billy nodded and pointed with his cigarette. “And if I know then they sure as fuck do, too.” Billy took a big puff of smoke and smiled, a cocky little thing that wasn’t even a shard of what it used to be. “I don’t think they know I’m talking to you like this though and to be completely fucking honest? Neither do I.” 

But he didn’t deny wanting the help being found, didn’t glare or stare off into space. Didn’t tell Steve to stop, to call off his ‘nerd dogs’, didn’t question why Steve was looking for him in the first place. Just accepted that he knew how obsessed with this Steve was and seemed curious without outright asking. Kept shooting Steve these knowing glances and that seemed to confuse him even more.

“Elev- Jane, has she uh, has she been able to reach you?” Steve picked at some of the rust on the table, still watching Billy. Watching him roll his shoulders, relieve some of the tense that was hiding around his ears. “Can you tell me, like, anything of what you’ve seen?” 

It had taken El months to be able to even get a hint of a trace of Billy, afterlife or upside down or no. Max had only two pictures of Billy, one of the most stolen pictures from the lifeguard station at the pool, where he was wearing a crop top that might’ve short circuited Steve’s brain for a few minutes, and the strip from the pier where they were both pulling their cheeks back with their fingers, obvious laughter at the strangeness of their pose, squinting their eyes with the forces of their smiles. One of Max’s fingers up his nose while her mouth hung open in laughter, Billy’s arm around her shoulders and faking a grumpy face but eyes full of joy. Steve’s nightly check in calls usually held a few minutes of El explaining Billy being tired, being hurt in ways that Papa had hurt her but worse because these men were meaner than Papa, screaming himself hoarse when put face to face with monsters in a metal cage. 

The phone in the room starting ringing, shrill and annoying. Billy smiled wanly, smoke circling around his face as he looked out and beyond the parking lot. He got up and walked to the metal railing and leaned his elbows down while cocking his hips out. He pointed with his left hand, towards the opposite direction of town, and hissed. Steve noticed a small rivulet of blood, slowly oozing out of the corner of Billy’s left nostril, and his breath locked in his chest. He felt panic rising, wanted to reach out to Billy, feel his warm skin in the sun to prove just how alive he was.

“You should answer that.” Was all Billy said, voice carefully blank and eyes turned away. It shocked Steve how that angered him, _ look at me you fucking coward _ bouncing around in his head as he put his feet to the floor. __

_ __ _

_ __ _

He felt the pulsing in his veins, the need to grab something- to hold or to hit would be decided later it seemed. He clenched and unclenched his hands, uselessly, wondering just what the fuck he was going to do. He could feel time was running thin, thousands of words and sounds begging to be heard but equally shy to be spoken. 

“Will you be here when I come back out?” His voice was steely and weird when he finally spoke. Steve paused after standing, watching Billy’s back closely for seconds then his eyes trailed to the back of his head. “Will you just-”

“Projecting.” Billy grunted. “Makes me fuckin’ tired.” He sighed heavily, head falling between his shoulders over the railing.

And that was that, apparently. Cigarette flicked downstairs to the parking lot, another sigh leaving his lips and a small wave then Billy was gone. Steve stared at the spot, phone going silent and then starting back up seemingly louder than before. He rubbed his eyes with the meat of his hands and shoved his hair back before making his entrance into the small and desolate room.

“Color of the day?” Steve asked, expecting Hopper’s grunt of ‘red’ but getting a gasping sound in answer. “Hop?” He twirled the phone cord between his fingers, anxiety jolting through his veins, the thumping of his heart in his ears as he held his breath and waited for an answer.

“I think I’m in a different fucking country.” Then the line went dead. He knew it was Billy, the absolute fear in his voice sending Steve into a pure panic. 

He couldn’t control his breathing, toes digging into the outdated carpet and he quickly glanced around the room. The mirrors all reflected him, holding the phone to his ear and a completely shell shocked look on his face. It only made it worse, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see anything to count down to himself. Tried to hang up the phone before it slipped from his weak hands. It was real. Seeing Billy was real. Steve was sure it was a dream but he’s never panicked like this in a dream. He’s had terror filled dreams that felt this real, that caused panic and fear, but he’s always had the reassurance of one of the kids snoring in the other room, Hopper’s heavy footsteps in the living room, any kind of proof that it wasn’t real. He doesn’t have that now, because it was too real. 

Steve paced the ten foot space between the bed and the door for three hours before he snatched the phone up and dialed Hopper for the tenth time. He was so worked up, his lips raw from his teeth constantly digging in and dragging across the bottom then sucking the top lip in and hissing. His body felt like a live wire, a cage of energy that he couldn’t dare control or contort with his own hands. He smacked the mattress after the first ring, getting angrier with every waste of time between rings. This time it connected on the third ring and Steve silently said a prayer, feeling his shoulders slump and his knuckles tighten around the receiver.

“The ice cream special of the day is?” Max asked, voice firm and anxious at the same time.

“Maraschino cherries and pistachio on a boat.” If he was in a better mood, he’d laugh at how ridiculous it really all was. Colors and ice cream and D&D characters, secret codes for small breaths of air when everyone reported in. 

“Steve?” Max sounded cautious, on edge in the same way Steve felt. “El said-”

“Did she see him?” He could feel his voice getting louder, hysteria creeping in. If El was able to see Billy with Steve couldn’t she find where he was projecting himself from? Could she find him and project herself there with him? He couldn’t help but feel like he needed to run home right this fucking instant. 

“No, Steve, she couldn’t see him but she could hear him. She heard him talking to you. She says thank you for leaving the radio on, by the way.” Max’s voice wavered. “What did he look like, was he okay, is he hurt really bad? Is the Mind Flayer still in him?” 

All at once Steve collapsed, back hitting the edge of the bed as he slid down and hooked his chin on a hand resting on his knees. He almost felt like sobbing, of breaking down every little thing that had happened to Max, he was taking deep gasping breaths and keep yourself under control god dammit Harrington echoing in his head. 

“He’s alive,” Steve sobs. “He’s really alive.” He’s still gasping harshly into the phone, trying to keep the tears behind his eyelids. “He doesn’t know where he is, what’s happened to him or anything. But he’s alive, Max.” Her sobs start matching his on the other line and soon Joyce is cooing over the phone, telling Max the same thing she’s saying into Steve’s ear.

“You’re okay, everything is going to fix itself. Check for the gate and then come home, Steve.” Hopper took over the phone, Joyce still talking to Max in the background. Hop measured his breathing for Steve, controlled his lungs and pushed air forcefully to match Hop’s. 

“How did you get out of there, Hop?” Steve whispered, pinching the bridge of his nose hard and watching the white flashes shoot across his closed eyelids. “How did- how did you survive?” He choked out and Hop took a deep breath in, held it for five and slowly released it.

“Sometimes feel like I’m still there.” Hopper’s voice was soft, quiet in the wrong kind of nostalgia, like admitting a weakness right in the mouth of the snake that he knew would bite him. “We can- we can talk about this and more when you come home, kid. Just, check the lead, be careful and cover your footsteps, no paper trail or nothing. Check the lead and come home.” 

Steve’s never had someone beg him to come home, his mom never checking in on him after being gone for a sleepover at Tommy’s for four days and his dad only noticing school attendance. Spending days alone, maybe not physically but emotionally alone, looking around at life flying past him and nestling closer in his nook of empty castles and paying for friends and managing to stay somewhat coherent even when the dark and cold pressed down on him so hard he swore he heard his ribs or his sternum crack. He ended the call with the promise to check in again before sun down, Max a quiet sound in the background and his own thudding heart slowing marginally.


	3. Someone's calling for me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> introducing Billy Hargrove.
> 
> heads up for descriptions of torture, of Billy getting violent.  
Mysterious blue liquids being injected.
> 
> I'm all over the place kinda messy but I'll have some time soon to come back and fix my mistakes.

Billy’s days passed in a matter of movements. Time wasn’t real where he was, or so it felt like. Cold hallways led to cold medical rooms where he was hooked up to cold equipment. They measured his heart, his breathing, the movement of his eyes, hands and feet. They shaved his head to better regulate his brain frequencies, or at least that’s what he assumed. They spoke a language that he’s only heard as a cheap bad guy character in an action packed race-against-time-esque B rated celebrity movie. It kinda made him chuckle, some of the sounds their vowels made. It sounded like an intense language but some of the duds that’ve been coming into Billy’s cell looked more like a potato inside of a sock puppet. 

The translator they had brought in was a meek looking woman. Mousy, almost. Soft brown hair kept tight in a braided bun on the back of her head. Ghastly green uniform with black and gold rank markings littering her breast. She would instruct him to crush the pepsi can, to lift the chair to the left, to turn the power out in cell ten. She always picked a different cell number, as if she could confuse him on which one was actually his. Billy had counted doors, ceiling tiles and paint chips. Three lefts and one right from the mental examiner, then five doors down the last hallway to a dent the size of his own shoulders. He assumes it’s taken time for him to pick this up, has completed this routine five times in the past three hours, has counted seconds like tallies against the wall in his cell. 

He couldn’t tell exactly how long he’d been there, how long ago he was possessed by a fucking shadow monster and tried to destroy his entire town. He tried not to think too hard on that one just yet, ice racing up his spine and his heart pounding. He didn’t know if it was day or night, his senses going haywire at all hours trying to stabilize his internal clock. He was bored, almost. Scared shitless, but bored. 

He would fight the guards that came for him every ten hours. Those assholes took him to the chamber. In the chamber they would inject him with a mysterious blue liquid, let him throw up with a vile taste stuck in his mouth for the next four hours. Waits until he’s swearing and thrashing again then throws him into the cage. He’s quick to try to slink back through the door but the guards know his routine, he’s left pounding at the door and screaming.

“No, no no no no!” He yells, echoing around the metal room, bars separating Billy from the obvious men who must run the facility. Counts the eager eyes watching him. All waiting to see his powers, excitedly planning what they can use him for. The flower headed _thing_ came trotting out of the opening, the high pitched noises grating on Billy’s already in overdrive senses. It makes it out until it’s ten feet away from him, then fucking stands on it’s back two legs and _ screeches _ into the room. Millions of razor sharp teeth meet Billy’s gaze and the ice is licking up Billy’s spine again. He stumbles back to get as far away from the fucking thing that’s sniffing the air, _ searching for him jesus christ _. ______

_ _ _ _ _ _There’s this weird feeling he gets, a calmness that comes from the bottom of his stomach and suddenly he’s planting his feet and clenching his jaw. There’s a white noise feeling coming from his brain, like it’s frying itself down to nothing. His toes grip the slick concrete under him as the thing turns to him and opens its mouth again with a howling screech. It seems like the thing wants to play, taking its time to let its tongue loll out and wag in the air. Billy grows frustrated, hands curling into fists next to his hips, separating his feet to grip the ground better. He’s clenching his teeth so hard it hurts, jaw muscles jumping under his pale skin. The thing lunges for his face and it’s all he can do to duck. A loud growl comes out of his throat and the thing flies across the cage and slams into the bars. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Feeling a wetness above his lip that he’s not in the mood to question, high on anxiety and adrenaline, awaiting the next strike. The thing takes no refractory period, lurches back up and is immediately back on him. He has a memory that’s burning across his eyes of the food court of a mall, holding his arms up in the same position and _ screaming burning tearing at his chest to get it out get it the fuck out of him _. He screams, much like he did in his memory and suddenly he’s covered in slick. Not realizing he’d closed his eyes until he relaxed from how hard he was squeezing them. He opens them to find he’s clutching the body of the thing while it’s head had exploded all over him. ___ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _He drops the thing, scrambling across the cage, gasping harshly while the men cheer in the background and some even clap. They won’t take him to the chair on the other side of the chamber today, he did what he was supposed to. The same guards carry him, one arm to one man, down to the showers where they force him to strip quickly. He’s never been one to hide his body, never felt uncomfortable being naked anywhere or anytime. But this feels different. There’s a room full of people behind darkened glass that watch him shower. He can hear the buzz of their voices behind the glass, thought for a while it was a broken television or something. He always panics a little when looking at the 017 tattooed on the inside of his wrist._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Humiliated and exhausted they cart him back off to his cell. Down three hallways, right on the last one, six paint chips the size of gumballs and five doors down. Ten doors to a hallway, three floors down and one floor up. He’s seen the elevator. Has seen enough action movies to know he’s in the bad guys’ lair. They toss him roughly onto the tile and he feels it like a back handed slap into a bookcase. Can feel his father breathing down his neck, he completed his task but he’s still a failure. He’s still weak, lying on the cold floor just letting it seep into his bones and lock his muscles. The bright lights above burn his eyes but he can’t take them off the bulbs. Felt the white noise come back to his head and the bulbs burst at once._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ He’d been getting this niggling feeling, like a worm crawling around inside his head and nestling close at the base of his skull. El, or was it really Jane? When he closed his eyes he could see her attempts at finding him. Could see her sitting in front of a tv or a radio or in a car with a blindfold over her eyes, absolute stillness around her, holding his picture, her thumb resting right over his face. White noise louder than his harsh breathing. He could see _ her _, so why couldn’t she see him? ___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Billy got this feeling a lot, not always alone in his cell to be able to block the men out from seeing what else he could do. He’d close his eyes and sink and suddenly he’d see El, the nerd dream team around her with Max. He’d close his eyes and see Steve the most though. It felt like Steve was constantly calling his attention, always had Billy in mind, could always find Steve when he closed his eyes. He saw the fight with… Robin? Yeah. Robin. Heard him explain how fucking awful he felt before Steve bolted and Billy opened his eyes. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _He’d paid close attention to Steve after that. Confused and wounded when he saw the pain that everyone was trying so hard to conceal. The kids, starting high school and Max looking so fucking _ lost _ that Billy cried for three days about it. It scared him as well, he still couldn’t grasp what time of year it was or an actual date. Could tell from El that it was going to start snowing soon, but that wasn’t even definite. It’d been an hour and forty five minutes since the last guard walked by his cell, approximately two hours before they fed him anything. So he pulled himself up onto his cot and allowed himself to snoop. His eyes slid closed and he reached out and tugged, like pulling on a line and getting a peek into the real world in return. ___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Hey, I’m sorry for saying those things and making you feel like you can’t talk to me about anything. I know this Billy thing is complicated with you, I didn’t know exactly how complicated but I’m thinking I’ve got a _ taste _ of it now.” Robin and Steve half chuckled at that and Robin slid her hand up and down Steve’s arm in comfort. “I’m serious, Steve, we’ve been through some shit the past year and I can’t leave knowing you didn’t trust me enough, that you suffered while I wasn’t helping you the way I should be. So let me help you. You don’t sleep, you’re so scared all the time and I’m not judging.” She raised her palms in the air at his open mouth. “Would never judge you, just want you to be able to get some kinda _ rest _, man.” _____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Billy enjoyed the way she was so quiet about it, creating a moment that Steve could easily break, allow silence to cover over them in their dimly lit motel room. The alarm clock said 4:27. Billy looked closely at Steve, walking up and getting in his face as if he could see him. Watched his fingers turn to smoke when he tried to lift Steve’s chin to look at his eyes. Steve was stick and bones thin, shoulders hunched to his ears and eyes never glancing up for more than a quick look around the room. His hair had gotten shaggier, swooped into his eyes when he bobbed his head in agreement to whatever Robin said next._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“I just- I just don’t get why I feel like this.” He sighed, hand coming up to grip at the roots of his hair before smoothing it down. “I fucking _ hated _ the guy, Robs. Hated him. He almost killed me, tried to kill the kids, and I just feel so fucking tore up about him dying like that.” He wiped at his face as if to pull his mind back to something else. “I uh, I never told anyone about this. Max told me some stuff and I pieced together some other stuff but Billy… His _ dad _… God, Robin.” That’s all he could choke out, hands clenching on his knees. “It’s not my business, it probably never will be, but I can’t fucking stop thinking that if Billy fucking Hargrove just had a solid, _ decent _ human being of a friend that he wouldn’t have died the way he did.” _______ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Billy snapped his eyes open. He knew he had died, if only briefly. Can feel the canyons on his ribs and center of his chest from the shadow monster above him. Remembers stepping over El and raising his arms, hearing distant shouts from all around the mall but channeling himself entirely towards the monster. He remembers _ winning _. He’s exhausted now, losing every day, watching it slip right on by him. After his food comes, the same grey slop they give him every day that he can barely choke down just to keep his energy up, he focuses. He thinks of the layout of the building he’s in, what he’s seen and then pushes. Can feel the energies of people walking above ground, on the floor around him, on the floors below him. Can feel the energy patterns as they walk through turning halls and twisting stairs, can feel them group together on the elevator. The bulbs in the hallway go out and the guards come rushing in. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ __

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _He thrashes around in arms, exhausted and scared, screaming. Punches chests, chins, shoulders and ears. Kicks and kicks and kicks until five men with batons are beating him down into the cold fucking ground. He blacks out with an indignant grunt._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _When he comes too he’s back in the chamber. The brainwave helmet is already latched on and he can’t feel his wrists so that means he’s tied down. That means they’ve been spying in his head. That means Steve and El and Max weren’t safe. He thought of the empty streets of Loch Nora, pulled his thoughts away from the people he once knew and instead focused on places. Places didn’t mean shit if they couldn’t spy on the plans. He thought of the taco shack in San Bernardino that his mom loved so much, the chicken shredded perfectly and seasoned just right. He thought of a trip to Lake Tahoe with Andrew McCullum’s family, crystal clear water that felt so fucking good roving over his shoulders as he swam. Thought of Marcus Perez’s two story walk up townhouse that had the giant bird of paradise plant in front of it. Thought of empty streets with shoes hanging from the power lines, kids yelling somewhere in the background as he walked alone seasides smoking a blunt. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _The punch to the gut startled him enough to make him choke. They caught on to what he was doing. He vaguely heard a threat from his father go off between his ears, missing every other word but knowing it was a promise to come anyways. Billy dry heaved for a minute straight, choking on air and clutching his wrist restraints. He didn’t give up though. He started thinking of other inconsequential things, cats and dogs that he remembered friends owning. Little things that probably didn’t exist outside of these walls again. He felt a pressure in his mind and pushed at it. Heard a gasp from behind him. He knew something weird was going on, could see himself with eyes squeezed closed and a determined face. Could move without restraint. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _"Oh, fuck _," he thought,_ "I’m in someone’s fucking head _." He could see his memories coming to play in front of this body’s eyes. Heard the body gasp again, say something quick and then Billy was choking on air when someone raised their baton to his stomach and shocked him. White spots danced across his vision as he groaned, neck stiff from being stuck in the helmet and nausea creeping in faster and faster. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ ___

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Billy never gave himself time to think about these new things he could do with his mind. Or the blood that consequently flowed from his left nostril. Never tested the waters like he was doing now, wondered if he could kill a whole room of people and then wondered if he actually thought that or if there was still some shadow monster stuck in his fucking head. He never questioned his abilities, tried to control his body after the fact by keeping himself well. Didn’t stir shit with the guards like he used to. Now he knows to push them around with his fucking mind, might actually have a fighting chance at getting out._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _The day he contacts Steve head on is the day he fucks up big. He pushes, like he always does. He’s a pusher. He’s pretty sure the guards have running jokes about it now, laughing loudly right outside his door. They take him to get his mind read. That’s the only way he can think of really what else they’re doing when they put the helmet on him and want him to think about places in the building, move objects or direct people’s attention somewhere. Testing his limits with taking over people’s autonomy. The translator gets cocky. She invites Billy into her head, the only way she’d allow him to do it even if he can admit that he’s snooped before. She gets cocky and mean. It’s sorta hilarious to him, so he slaps on his trademark grin with a little tongue peeking out and laughs in her face. Tells her that her wet dreams of him won’t ever be fucking reality. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _She mentions a read head kid and brunette boy and Billy’s _ so fucking done _. He’s been tortured, beat, forced to kill monsters with his own two hands. He’s been cold, left covered in water with no clothes or blankets. They starved him, only allowed him to eat once in what he assumed was a week. They deprived him of any kind of information on what life was like on the outside. Kept him chained in a cage for however the fuck long, fucked his senses entirely. He pushes but this time without closing his eyes, he’s been getting better at that, at not letting anyone know when he was using his mind for worse than better. He’s in her head, can feel the anxiety creeping into it as she just watches him continue smiling. He juts his chin out sharply and her body goes head first through the mirror. He pulls back before he can feel her pain, makes eye contact with the men standing inside and _ cackles _. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ ____

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _He’s seeing stars for hours after they take him back to his cell. He slips his eyes closed and there’s Steve, glowing. His eyes are shut and he’s clutching a mug so hard his knuckles are white and Billy just- he just sits there and watches the sun rise over his face. He looks warm, he looks so soft and warm that Billy feels he needs to sit and allow Steve to make him warm. He sighs quietly and Steve’s eyes open. Billy knows, from the look he receives that this is beyond fucking crazy. That Billy died and the only person who can see or hear him is Steve fucking Harrington. But he also knows he’s not actually dead and he hasn’t pushed his powers this hard in a hot second so he’s gonna run with it while he’s allowed it. He knows to keep it vague, keep it brief. Don’t give Steve too much information, keep him on his toes so that Billy can spell things out but Steve can speak the words. Let’s him know that wherever he’s at people know that Steve is too concerned about Billy. That the kids are involved. That Hopper may have been Chief but nothing could protect them from the monsters that Billy knew all too well. He feels his body tug him back, pulls him in like warm arms of the mother that stayed up all night to hold him when he was sick, and he bids farewell. But not before a funny idea comes to him. He calls Steve’s motel phone, watches Steve panic after Billy hangs up and sighs at the pounding feet outside of his cell._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	4. Something's calling for me, again

Steve worked at Family Video for two months and six days. The man in the brown drab trench coat visited every day that he had a shift. Always stayed for twenty minutes, looking at the new releases and then the sci-fi sections. Picked up a movie every three and a half minutes, mumbled something under this breath, eyes dancing around Steve and Robin before switching over to another movie. It took Robin four shifts to realize but Steve had known as soon as the man walked in and made eye contact. He was watching them, felt comfortable coming in unannounced to put an invisible pressure on them. Steve had gotten into the habit of watching the direction the man left, always leaving ten minutes before his shift would end, but when he would investigate alone he never found anyone or any cars waiting. This started a week into his new job. For a little less than two months Steve has had constant surveillance on him, as if he’d ever spoken a lick about what had happened about any of this gate keeping Upside Down bullshit to anyone except the people involved.

He had a feeling something bigger was going on, hushed conversation with Robin late nights in his kitchen. It was like Billy was wiped clean from Hawkins. No one talked about him or his family anymore, Steve stopped seeing Neil driving past the shitty little cemetery they put his golden body in. He assumed they were keeping tabs on him, probably on the entirety of their group, to ensure that no one is snooping around in things they shouldn’t be. Since out of any state, town or group of people, it just had to be Hawkins, Indiana and the people Steve cared dearly about now. They knew Jane was around somewhere, heard rumors around the town of Hop with a little girl in his home. Wasn’t so much a witch hunt to find her, just to make sure she’s purposefully kept out of the loop and if that means that someone had to “put the fear of God back in the police of Hawkins, then so fucking be it.” 

Steve was collecting more information on his stalker while avoiding Keith, building up as much as he can to be able to make a conversation about it, to tell Joyce and Hop and be taken seriously and not paranoid. They’ve never doubted his feelings or opinions, have built a level of trust with him that only soldiers could probably understand, but they weren’t on board when Steve was insisting Billy’s death was a cover of something bigger. 

They knew the Mind Flayer was in Hawkins, knew the Upside Down was channeling a person instead of opening a gate, knew the group of teens and kids with their very own supervisors would kick ass til kingdom come for them. The men in the coats knew all of this about them, so why all the consistency of tracking Steve down? He wondered if the kids had someone assigned to them like this man was apparently to Steve. Winced when he realized just how dark that was, thought long and hard about how to broach this with the party. His heart was always a little off rhythm now, spikes of adrenaline and the following crashes making his mind loop and chest constrict. 

The last Wednesday that Steve worked at Family Video was the day Joyce was forced to pack up Will and Jane and bolt. A week later, Jonathan and Nancy left, Mike throwing an absolute fit over it. Three days later Steve threw away all his things from Robin’s basement, a week’s worth of clothes folded neatly into a trash bag in his trunk, and turned his walkie off while he drove to Illinois chasing the only family he had and avoiding the agents who questioned him. The world had settled into something cold, something broken. The day the men came to Family Video and arrested Steve, not giving him any reason, just jerked him out from behind the counter and cuffed him as they read him his rights. Nothing like Miami Vice arrests, not nearly as cool as Tommy getting cuffed by the cops for fighting Roger Williams, or even that one time Billy got taken down from some house party for starting a drunk teenager riot.

“Call my mom, Robin, call her right now.” Steve urged, eyes blinking around fast and feeling hot. “Tell her that I’m gonna miss dinner and she should give Baldy my respects.” He knew she would immediately pick up on who he was talking about and what to say to them, that she would choose her words wisely. Keith was staring bug eyed at the scene, hand still in his cheeto bag. That was the last time he talked to Keith normally again, the next time Keith had grilled him. Told him he didn’t tell any of the big managers but that Steve couldn’t get arrested again or they both could possibly lose their jobs. Said Steve owed him a big one. The men dragged him out, each wearing the same drab coats and black hats. It annoyed Steve, they were too consistent. Same motive every day, come in and watch him. They all appeared about the same height, same weight and same body build. They were all white, which wasn’t shocking really. The man taking his time behind Steve had a gleam in his eye, something private that Steve should’ve picked up on and worried about.

They interrogated him about Billy. Threatened him, pulled out every scare tactic in the book, smacked him around a bit. Asked about Eleven and Hopper, how was Joyce settling into that relationship after things with Bob went so poorly? Was Max comfortable at Hawkins High? Did Neil know what Max got up to behind his back? Would he think Billy taught her that and punish her the same way? Steve was sick to his bones the entire time, looking around warily, feeling like he was tied to a chair a million floors under the mall. Staring into the Russian man’s eyes while he sweetly talked about the torturous things he was going to do to them if he didn’t talk. His pulse sped up, hands going clammy instantaneously. Started feeling queasy until the door slammed open his stomach sank further. The man with the crazy look in his eye earlier stood in front of him now.

A pair of brilliantly blue eyes watching him, a small smile slipped onto a chiseled face. His eyes looked tired but bright, eating up every movement Steve made. There were a lot “listen, Steve,” comments made. A few “we both know you’re a good kid but,” and he won’t ever forget the “good family kid like you, how’d William Hargrove get wrapped up in your life?” He wore a white button down shirt that he had uncuffed. Loosened his tie around his throat before sauntering over to the table to lean down into Steve’s face. 

“Okay, Mr. Harrington, just one more question. Depending on your answer you might even be able to leave before shift change.” He chuckled a little then and Steve could smell the cigarettes and mint on his breath, could feel the puff of air hit his forehead. “Where’s William Hargrove?” 

“Hell, probably. Though not knowing him too well, I can’t say for sure.” He made a considering face and then dropped it to look blankly at the guy. “I don’t know what you expected out of this, but considering my busted lip and dwindling patience I’m going to ask politely, again because my mother raised me well, for you to get to the point. The guy beat my ass in high school, what makes you think we were the best of buddies?” 

“There was a note, in a book, that said if he were to have gone missing it’d be your fault.” The guy paused long enough to consider Steve’s face and then burst out laughing, deep like it was coming straight out of his gut. He wiped tears from his eyes. “You think I’m sharing evidence with a suspect? Don’t leave town until I talk to you again, I’m willing to drop the charges for the moment Mr. Harrington, but do not fucking test me.” 

“Suspect for what?!” Steve yelled to the already slamming door. He felt hot under the skin, like something was trying to crawl its way out. He pulled against the cuffs and huffed an annoyed sigh. It took them four hours to release him. 

The absolute Power Move. That’s what got Steve the most, not that someone abused Hawkins’ local government just to falsely arrest him on a theft charge, just that that was the only way they thought Steve would come in for questioning. They wanted to fucking scare him and all they did was make him angry. He didn’t fucking care, he left who he was at the foot of the stairs in his parents house. The boy that allowed them to leave him, to forget about him. He learned about his freedoms, what he could and couldn’t get away with in the real world. He raised himself since he was 13, didn’t need anyone to clean his messes or wipe his ass. He might’ve had rich parents but Steve learned life from the kids around him. 

His mother had taken him to cooking lessons when he was old enough to stay home alone. He learned how to cook, learned gourmet recipes and how to really and truly throw his weight around in the kitchen. He was good at cooking. He was good at cleaning up after himself too, making it look like he was never there. When he was 16 and lonely he would make a nice three course meal. He’d use the nice dishes his mother set aside for personal dinners, not the nicest china in the cabinet he wasn’t stupid. He’d set the table for himself, lights slightly flickering above him, while he looked across to where he imagined his father would sit with a whisky neat at his elbow. 

After that Halloween, when the world split itself open and projectile vomited all over his life, Steve had learned how to completely keep his tracks covered. Learned which parts of himself were bullshit, really took Nancy’s drunken words to heart in an attempt to find some closure. He lost the girl, gained some kids as his best friends, watched the world descend to hell and come right back for the second time, got his face beat to shit again. Then, also for the second time, turned around and acted like none of it had happened. He had started to consider he might’ve been going crazy, or crazier, than the first time the Upside Down came right side up. Couldn’t remember how he’d coped with it the first time.

He knew he was always in the public eye, being the ex-king of Hawkins High had its pitfalls. All he wanted was a quiet night at home where he didn’t feel like the vaulted ceilings were going to open up and whatever took Barb was going to snatch him too. That quickly turned into simply wanting a space in Hawkins that didn’t feel like monsters had scoured it in their attempt to rein heaven and hell alike. Steve knew monsters, knew guys who took advantage of girls. Knew men who beat their children, parents who left for months for business trips on the other side of the globe without even so much as a phone call. He knew the garbage that a human could be, understood that the mind was a messed up place when taught by the wrong hands, learned behaviors and just outright craziness. But he didn’t know the Upside Down. 

He used to lean against his car, eating combos and sipping a coke, and watch the town around him. He did it at school, slid his sunglasses on and simply watched everyone go about their days. Like watching animals, thought about the time his great PaPaw took him bird watching and hunting in the same day. Binoculars pressed to his face, leaving a red line across the ridge of his nose, captivated by the birds flying above him from tree to tree, swooping and swirling around. It felt freeing. Staring at the Hawkins around him it feels convoluted. The only peace it seems he can find is at the quarry. Where he parks along the ridge, looking down at the pebbled shore and thinks of the night he watched Billy drive like a bat out of hell down to the water, abruptly stop to jump out and puke not three feet away. He had a slash in his face that ran from hairline to his nose, bleeding and turning purple. He couldn’t see Steve in the trees up top, but Steve could see Billy wipe his eyes a few times before the sobs started coming in sharp bursts.

He had yelled “why” into the sky three times before he fell to his hands and knees and puked again, choked noises echoed for minutes on end. That night broke Steve, shattered him a way he didn’t think he could shatter. Didn’t think he could have any feelings towards someone who so literally beat him down. It piqued his curiosity too. He knew Billy was an angry person, always had a grudge to hold or mean comment to make. Knew it like knew the sky was blue that Billy was a shattered person, that he’d seen so much bad in his life that it over flowed into the people who followed him. Misery loved its company, he always thought. Graduation night Billy had shown up at Missy Jaskin’s party and drank everyone under the table. He had a hand print wrapped around his throat, said his date got a little too eager in the car. He didn’t come with a date. He also had a fire lit inside that Steve had never seen before. Billy was on fire that night, burning from the inside out and rapidly spreading flame to those around him. He caught Steve’s eye and seemed to pale, avoided him the entire night. It was the weirdest thing to happen to him and Steve thinks he knows weird now. 

He’s got his flashlight and shovel, walking through humid Florida forests and swatting mosquitoes away as the circle his face and arms. He checks the compass, reads the coordinates and sighs. Another fifty feet in front of him a river rushes. This is where the gate supposedly was, after researching through town and finding as many stories as possible on the events. Everyone said Rainbow River but that was actually a few counties away and too much drive time to investigate tonight so Steve dug around in the library until he found a locally known river, famous for rainbow bass and he smiled at Dustin’s voice in the back of his head. He checks trees, digs a hole and checks the soil, slaps the water in the river around as he tries to check the bed underneath. Nothing. No sign of the Upside Down. He’s relieved and disappointed. Spends four hours hiking his way there, checking for nothing and then hiking his way back to his car. He makes it to his motel at sunrise, cleans himself up and crashes face first into the sheets.

He thinks of Murray Bauman over his first cup of coffee. Thinks of Joyce and Will sleeping on his couches in his new hideout. Thinks of the first week he spent there, watching the man live his life in his boxers with a bottle of vodka either in hand or close by. Thinks of Robin explaining the terror Will went through when a van followed him home. Joyce took Steve’s message for what it was and fled. Grabbed the important things from the house, ditched the car and met Murray two hours outside of Chicago. Thinks of the dead look in Murray’s eyes when anyone mentions Russians. They get into it one night. Joyce took Will and Jane out to see some movie, the kids had talked about it over the walkies and originally planned to see it together but didn’t know if it was safe. Murray snaps and Steve explodes. Jonathan and Nancy coming in from the basement where the four of them slept to separate them. 

“You’re on a ghost hunt for a fucking punk who never did a fucking thing for you, Harrington. I have better things to do with my time than to piss around and let you daydream about a boyfri-” Steve had lunged at him, pushed him hard into the wall between the kitchen and dining spaces, had brought his hand up and stopped when Nancy’s soft hand tugged his wrist.

“You don’t have very much fucking room to talk, man. You had one job and you let him get fucking killed.” Steve knew Murray knew he wasn’t talking about Billy. Knew everyone in the room knew he wasn’t talking about Billy. 

Murray paused, eyes flashing with several emotions in the span of seconds before he closed his expression off and grabbed the vodka bottle. He handed it out to Steve, who snatched it and chugged until he felt like gagging. It was a truce if he ever got one, willingly put his issues aside to restate that Billy wasn’t the mission, the truth was. It was the biggest lie he told if he could count them.

He thinks of weekends where a bunker is full of children and its calm. They take care to make sure no one is following the nondescript van that Murray keeps parked underground. Hopper stays Chief of police for three months, keeps his eyes on the battle that’s starting to form under his nose between federal agents and his deputies. He gauges the agents, figures out the weak links and preys on them for information. Changes his radio frequencies, uses code to talk to Joyce at nights. It’s lonely, sitting around with Nancy and Jonathan, unsure if the kids are actually safe in Hawkins and trying to strategize what they would do if they weren’t. He watches Jane and Will play cards, watches them study together. Most nights Steve can only relax if Will’s voice, soft and getting deeper by the day, is humming in the background. He’ll read to Jane, teach her words that she asks about. Repeats them four or five times until she’s sounding them out better, they feel more natural on her tongue. 

He hates being cooped up all day, has made a small hiding spot in a window on the first floor. Took pillows and blankets into this nook, a beat up copy of Fahrenheit 451 that he keeps in the back pocket of his jeans. He calms himself the most when he reads the book, fifth time going through he starts to actually pay attention to the themes and characteristics. Started understanding why reading was actually a cool thing. Felt a pit in his stomach that he couldn’t quite explain, didn’t understand how the apocalyptical feeling made him more studious than his normal life did. 

The same pit in his stomach as he falls asleep in his motel room with the book over his face.

And then…

He’s covered in mud, sleeting rain creating a haze over his eyes. His shovel is stuck in the ground in front of him and he’s breathing so harshly. Someone’s standing on the ground above him, he’s realizing now he’s digging a hole, shoving mud and water behind his shoulder to slop against the grass up top. He chances a look up and it’s Billy standing there watching him. He stops and opens his mouth to say- something? Anything, he guesses, but Billy shakes his head. Shakes his head and says “no.”

“What?” Steve whispers. “What’s going on?” He looks around and this is so familiar he’s going to be sick. It’s the cemetery. It’s Billy’s grave. 

“Steve.” Billy says, voice grave and shuttered. “Steve, you need to wake up and go home.” Billy leans down, reaches a hand down to him and Steve feels obligated to take it, to let Billy pull him out of the mud. Both of their hair is in their eyes, Steve covered head to toe in dirt while Billy’s just soaked from rain, boots only slightly muddy. “D’you hear me? Go home, go home and fucking find me.”


	5. Devil is back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in one day?? who am I??  
I'd like to thank red bull for sponsoring me
> 
> also please think of Jump In The Fire by Metallica when reading Billy fighting the Upside Down monsters  
it's very flayed and experiment Billy and also just really good Metallica  
Billy gets to have some fun and finally some good fucking freedom *insert Gordon Ramsey meme here*

Billy was having the dream again. He stepped forward slowly, edging down a tunnel of vines, tree roots looking, veiny. The air smelled frigid, like a dry type of cold, like freezer burned food. It set him on edge, felt like a wiggling feeling where his head met his neck. Next he was lying on his back looking up at satin material. His hands slid across it, felt the hardness behind it and took a deep breath. Same as last time, he was six feet under. This time he took a second to try and see details of the casket. The white satin, pinned with a dark blue ribbon in the center. Just like his mother’s. It’s the only thing his dad had ever done correctly. He searches for some kind of weakness, some kind of give when he starts hearing the noises.

Schlink. A loud dragging noise. Schlink thunk drag. A knocking sound.

“Hello?” He calls out loudly. Wishes this were real and he could finally get out of this hellscape of repeating dreams and phrases he knows won’t answer questions.

Loud thunks from the top of him, dirt falling into his face, rain coming down in buckets. A hand shoots forward and pulls him out while he’s adjusting to the onslaught. He looks up and meets eyes with Steve Harrington for the third time that week. Same dream, same encore performance. Billy plays his part well, remembered his lines and everything. He figures this must be important if he can’t stop dreaming it. Can’t decide if it’s him that’s setting the importance on it or if the people holding him are setting it up to capture Steve. Tries to tell himself he doesn’t care about the difference, admits he’s lying as his dream self looks into Steve’s eyes and tells him to wake up. 

He wakes up in the chamber, sweat rolling off him and panting too loudly that it echoes in the room and in his ears. Tries to choke down a grunt of pain when he registers the purple criss crossing his torso. Can see popped blood vessels like fish in a pond, clenches his fists and his jaw only to see stars across his vision. Wrists and ankles chained now, his neck tense from the angle the strap around his forehead holds him at.

“Oh? Is our little warrior awake now?” A husky, American voice calls and he jolts forward looking for the face. The light is so bright on him he can only see three feet in front of himself. It’s annoying, the constant barrage to his senses. 

Feet come into view first, shiny black pointed toe shoes, laced perfectly, obviously someone military or with money. He’s never seen anyone’s shoes shine that much and he’s had quite a few rich dads chase him out of their house. The trousers and shirt that go with the shoes are also of expensive taste. Tailor fit, like a glove around a body. The man’s face is chiseled, his eyes a brighter blue than Billy’s and cold. Cold to read, cold to see, his posture is disinterested, like he could be watching someone cut open and would think it was below him. He’s never been afraid of a man other than his father but this man gives off the air of someone who could ruin your life by the snap of his thick fingers. His hair is slicked back entirely, like he grew up telling his friends and family he wanted to be a mobster when he grew up. Sharp cigar smoke wafts from him, cigar and eucalyptus. Something his dad once smelled like when he was still in the military. 

“The fuck are you?” Billy’s voice sounds off to his own ears, squinting against the light to read the man’s face as he stalks forward.

“I’m the man that’s either gonna help you escape or keep ya stuck here, kid.” His voice is even cold, bored, like he’s not really interested in helping Billy at all but it’s a platitude he has to throw out there. Like a company regulation. This conversation feels loaded and dangerous and Billy’s never longed for a fight like this before.

It’s psychological warfare and he’s had at least ten years personal experience. 

“What do you want then? I’ve got a long list of to-dos around here, might take a while to get to you, amigo.” The man chuckles darkly and Billy grins like a shark, grins like he knows the world’s secrets and is ready to set fire to it all. Knows he has no footing, this conversation is not controlled by him, but won’t let anyone take him down without a fight. 

“Well, see, I’ve talked to your friend. The one you’re always bringing up in that big brain ‘a yers.” He steps forward again, well inside Billy’s bubble of light. “The big brown eyes and hopeless attitude really isn’t all that, don’t see why you’re so caught up on ‘im.” Billy hangs on every word he says, well aware that if he’s going to get any information on his life outside of this prison this man is going to be the one to deliver it. “He skipped town, left before I could finish up. So that means you’re gonna find ‘im, you’re gonna tell ‘im to come home and I’m gonna finish my conversation.” 

Billy squints harder, like he’s actually considering what the man is saying and not panicking for already having done that. 

“Now, hang on, this is where you lost me. That’s a lot of help for nothing in return. I damn well know my freedom means more to all you assholes than bringing Harrington home.” He grins bright, keeps his eyes open as he sinks into the white noise in his head. Reaches out and finds the man’s energy, keeps himself right there, waiting for the signal to rip into his mind and end this right now. 

“Billy, Billy, Billy.” The man huffs a laugh. “You’re not in a situation where you can make demands.” 

So Billy laughs out a “fuckin’ try me” and pushes full force into the man’s head. Makes him walk back and forth while laughing at the look on his face. No longer is he cool, calm, collected and dangerous. He’s pale, breathing shallowly and his heart is racing. Billy goes through his thoughts, his recent memories. Sees where he interrogated Steve, sees where Steve’s lip had been split. Sees where Steve said he went to hell and Billy laughs so hard in a way he hasn’t in so long he’s gasping by the end of it. He pulls back and watches the man almost gag. 

“So here’s the deal spunkwad, ya got a cute little four year old at home and yer getting yer rocks off here with me instead? I wonder what the missus would think.” He laughs, wags his tongue out of his mouth for dramatic effect. “How about you let me out of these?” He nods up and down, wiggles his fingers and toes for further emphasis. “And I won’t hurt you?” 

The man shakes his head, a choked noise echoing around the room and Billy clenches his fist as if taking hold of the other body. 

“Eddie, can I call you Eddie? I’m gonna call you Eddie, the same way your mother did when you were ten and broke your arm. Like a fuckin’ moron.” He feels himself on a roll now, ready to cut and burn and bleed. “See, all this time I’ve been gettin’ the shit beat outta me. I’m ‘bout sick of it. So unless you’re actually gonna do something then I’m gonna have some fun.”

The hard edge is back in the man’s eyes. He looks as if he’s ready to call Billy’s bluff so Billy grins real sharp and sinks back in, raises the man’s hand and uses it to slap himself across the face. 

“Eddie, c’mon man, doncha know it’s rude to slap yourself in front of guests?” He laughs, loud and brash, before raising his eyebrows at the man. “It’s only going to get worse from here, man, I’m learning my shit too good to fuck around with amateurs. You’re fucking with the creme de la creme now, amigo. One mistake and it’s over for ya.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I heard about the six guards and your translator. I’m not that worried about it, honestly. You don’t scare me.” Eddie rolls his shoulders, easing tension and wrinkling his shirt.

“If you have to say I don’t scare you then I definitely fucking do.” He shouts a whoop before laughing. “First rule of intimidation? Don’t make obvious statements about fear, because I will call out your bluff and you will pay for it.” This entire conversation is taking its toll on him, he’s tired and sore and so over all of this stupid bullshit. Still doesn’t understand how some interdimensional demon wanted him as a vessel in the first fucking place.  
Eddie just looks at Billy. Eyes empty and something about it sets him on edge. It’s a look he’s seen come across his father’s face one too many times. But Billy is over the times he took the pain, the bleeding and the burning while he thought about things that were farther away than he could reach for. He’s taken shit his entire life, his mother’s shit, his father’s shit, Max’s shit. He’s done. He breaks everything he touches, glass panes, Steve’s face, Britney Harmon’s hymen, Max’s skateboards. He’s seen destruction, has caused destruction, knows the warning signs that sound like a rendition of the Twilight Zone theme. 

He slips his eyes closed and an alarm goes off in the hallway outside the chamber. Sirens matching the alarm in Billy’s head. Red lights start flooding the chamber, he can hear footsteps rushing outside, bodies making it to the stairs to race up and up and up to the ground level. No one checks the chamber, no one even looks for Billy. He breathes in a slow breath and opens his eyes. Eddie’s watching him curiously. Billy grins, all teeth and sharp angles, twists his ankle and hears a groan and a loud pop. One bare foot reaches the floor. 

He’s waiting on Eddie’s reaction but there isn’t one, so he keeps forcing himself out of the chair. Feeling warmth on the top of his lip, lets the blood drip into this teeth as he grunts to free his wrists. The last second a warm hand shoves his forehead back against the cold metal and Billy huffs out hard. 

“The fuck you think you’re doing?” He grunts out, freed hand grabbing onto Eddie’s pristine white shirt and wiping the blood from his nose on the collar. 

“Helping.” Eddie says, bored. Like he expected Billy to already know, and fair. He could’ve kept his attention on Eddie and the alarm and the emptying building while forcing himself out but that’s a lot of exertion and he’d eventually pay for it. 

His other wrist and head come out clear, alarms still blaring in the hallway. He stands to his full height and he’s sizing Eddie up before taking a step towards him. 

“So if that was your intention why’d you waste my fucking time?” He snarls, rubbing his wrist and ready to sink back down, get back into that ugly head and push. Feels the vitriol come up like bile, bites his tongue when he realizes he doesn’t want to lash out. “Whatever. I’m leaving this fucking place, don’t fucking stop me.” 

He forces the door to the chamber open, steps into the empty hall that’s washed in red lights. Drowns out the alarms in his head, mentally starts humming his favorite songs off the Kill ‘Em All album when the goose flesh rips down his body. He looks down both ends of the hallway around him, sees the black veins twisting across the walls rapidly. Can hear the screeching in the distance. Sees the ash like substance floating in the thickly crisp air. Has felt this anxiety building in him too many times before. Eddie steps up behind him and Billy turns from standing in front of the door to push him back into the chamber and snarl “stay here.” 

The monster comes hurtling around the corner, puts itself in Billy’s direct path and screeches. Opens its mouth, teeth shining sinister in the red lighting. He heard Eddie suck in a sharp breath, a “what the fuck” distant in his ears and Billy throws his hands up with a grunt, expecting the weight of the thing crashing into him and the pin pricks of the millions upon millions of teeth. But in return he gets a howl. It’s a different pitch than the usual squeals, lower but not quite a growl. Almost a whimper but with an edge. It makes Billy sweat, makes him blink his eyes fast as more fly into the hallway. Has him checking his balance, curling his toes against the tile and clenching his hands around thick air. He feels calm sweep through his body, at complete odds with his thoughts, his eyes feel razor sharp as he feels time slow to a crawl. Throws a hand up and pushes harder than he usually does, feels something tug right back and two of the monsters’ heads explode. 

He feels fucked up for laughing but this is the most exciting thing he’s done since he pushed a guard into the monster’s pit almost thirty six hours ago. Not that he has to explain himself, but the guard had a bit of a wandering hand. He knows that blood is freely oozing from his nose, has been for a while, knows his smile is stained red, probably always will be. Expects it. Feels ugly and horrific, like a real life monster, focuses on how strong the emotions come and uses it to take the other three monsters through the five walls of offices until they screech in misery. Revels in the whimpers and crushes them like walnuts when he starts feeling the warm pull of his body. Comes back to himself and counts his breathing. 

He reaches out to hold onto the wall, panting even louder in his own ears, while he’s mentally feeling the building for the others. Feels only one other energy and it’s just Eddie. He’s blind to these things. It confuses him, when the shadow monster was inside of him he could feel all of them, constantly aware of where they were. Controlling their positions and actions. Millions of reactions down to live wire triggers. Knew it all, held it all in his grasp, like a real world king. Eddie pokes his head out of the chamber and whistles. It startles Billy, not having forgotten about him but just not expecting the sharp noise in his ear. 

“Yeah, so I fuckin’ lied. You’re terrifying.” Eddie mutters, wide eyes taking in the black veins on the walls and headless monster bodies. “What the actual fuck’re those things?” 

Billy shoots him a dry look, tilts his head up to meet his eyes better. 

“I’m not telling you shit, man. We’re not partners in crime or fuckin’ anything like it. Alls I know is you’re a pig of some sort and have already started fucking with my shit.” Billy wipes his lip with his hand and smears it across Eddie’s shirt again, giving him a wide grin. Testing him. 

“And you’re a fucking moron if you think I’m letting you leave this hell hole without me.” Eddie gave him a bored look, eyes holding disgust when he looks at his shirt. “Fucking asshole, too, ain’t ya?” 

“Like yer a fuckin’ peach, amigo.” Billy shook his head, started walking without waiting for Eddie to follow. Assumed from the huff of a laugh and the footsteps that the shitbag got the message. 

They hit the stairs and Billy listened carefully to the noises echoing from the top. Pushed to find some kind of energy or a set of eyes to give him a heads up but came back with nothing. Shrugging and giving a mental fuck-it rant he started taking the stairs two at a time, keeping his eyes up and alert. Heard Eddie try to say something and flipped him off with both hands over his shoulders. 

“Where the fuck are we, anyway? Stateside?” Billy asked, up two flights with two more to go. The noises echoing each floor giving him chills but he ignored them in his ambition to leave. He looked over at Eddie as they turned to go up another flight. His face looked impassive, almost like he didn’t want to give an answer. “Either you tell me or I just poke into your head. I’m being nice and giving you the pleasantries of a choice.” He said it almost sing-song, in a sweet but dangerous voice.

“You were in Russia. For three months.” Eddie said blankly. “They moved you here to my compound, kept the Russian company for the sake of secrecy.” 

“Doesn’t answer my fuckin’ question, Edwad.” Billy turned to him with a glare and a large frown. Almost pushed out with his mind and his hands until he saw the thing creeping up behind Eddie. Had a second to consider feeding him to the thing and getting out on his own but a swoop of guilt had him curling his toes and hissing a sharp “don’t move.”

Eddie stiffened immediately, panic written all over his face. Billy could push and kill the monster but couldn’t push and control it. Wondered where that limit came from, if that was a shadow monster only thing or if they’ve adapted without their demonic leader. He snapped his fingers and its mouth opened wide, the ugliest smile he’s ever seen and yet it makes his blood sing in ways he hasn’t felt since he lived in California. He shoves a hand into Eddie’s chest, pushes his shoulders against the wall and takes three cocky steps down the stairs. He’s smiling, high on the electricity sitting between him and the monster. It seems like the thing is considering Billy, sizing him up patiently before making a snotty noise and turning its back to him and leaping down flights of stairs towards the chamber. He feels plastic thin and confused about the abrupt turn around. Usually the things are as bloodthirsty as Billy gets when locked up with them. 

Eddie’s eyebrows are up to his hairline, eyes bloodshot and fear still ripping through them. Billy doesn’t wait, takes the silence as permission to leave. Can’t stand still for a second, can’t think about what leaving these things behind means. Just bolts before his stomach can upend itself from his mouth. Uses his heartbeat to set a pace his feet could match, Eddie hot on his tail. They make it to the ground floor door and he stops. Freezes and reaches out to check for bodies. Five people in the hallway, six people outside the building’s doors. His eyes slide over to Eddie again.

“You said this was your compound right?” He asks, voice low like he’s telling a secret. 

Eddie nods quickly, hair coming loose from the slick, he looks like he’s had a bite taken out of him. Pale and shaking, sweat beading across his face and shirt going see through across his shoulders. The blood Billy had wiped on his shirt has streaked down, bright pink smudges across a white canvas. 

“Any way you can go out there and distract 11 people so I can get free or was saving your life too many times not enough to return the favor?” He asks harshly, remembering how cocky this dickhole was when he first approached Billy. 

Eddie stared into his eyes for a few long seconds, a loud echoing screech from the basement chamber forcing him to pull in a sharp breath before he nodded again. He tried to fix his hair and collect his facial expressions to not much luck before he shouldered past Billy and raised his hands in the air as he stepped into the hallway. He broke out in fluent Russian, soothing the men holding guns pointed at the door he stood in front of. Billy felt out for the energies, long tense minutes of Eddie trying to get the men to leave the building, felt them flow out the door and into the outside lot. Felt them turn and head a northern direction. Felt Eddie hang back, that caused his anger to strike up and he went on edge.

He toes out into the hallway, keeping an ear out behind him and his eyes circling around him. The small entryway was filled with bodies of people Billy hadn’t seen before. Scientists with long white coats covered in their innards and blood. Dead monster bodies riddled with holes and black goo. The veins from the basement had slowly made their way up the stairs with Billy and Eddie. At this rate this shit could take over the entire building and all of its surroundings. Towns, cities, states, countries. Wasn’t sure if it hadn’t already. He made it outside, dark sky meeting his wide open eyes. It felt so strange to feel fresh air on his skin, in his lungs, curling around his bare head. He felt Eddie before he saw him, tensed his shoulders on his turn to face him.

“We have to burn it.” Was all Billy said him, nodding back at the door. “It doesn’t like the heat and we have to burn it now before it gets out of control.” 

But Eddie shook his head no. Got an angry look across his face, like everything had gotten fucked up because Billy in the first place. It was an echo of look he had gotten any time he looked at his dad. Wasn’t something Billy wasn’t used to seeing, didn’t scare him in the way Eddie was trying to. So Billy pushed. He pushed so hard he felt light headed the entire time, muscles twitching with the strength he pushed Eddie with. 

“You think I’m gonna let you out easy on this?” He growled. “This is your mess, amigo. Like when a dog shits on the floor, whattaya do?” He quirks his lips like he’s actually thinking about it. “That’s right, pal, you shove its nose into it, let it know it’s not okay. Guess I’m just gonna have to shove your nose in it.” His face drops, blank. “You had a major hand in fucking my life beyond repair and running from the consequences isn’t an option. You burn this place or I burn you in it.”  


Billy isn’t going to lie, he fucking hates being like this. Hated the fear filled looks from Max and her dweeb ass friends, the anger and cold gazes from Harrington. Hated being anywhere in the ballpark of his wonderful father. Hates that violence and vitriol is easier to him, comes naturally. A threat is easier than a question. A fist to the face is easier than an admission. He hates his nature but he’s not in a position to change it yet. Needs the heat of his burning rage to keep him going. So threatening Eddie, who undoubtedly is a cop and could quite possibly fuck with his life so much worse, is natural. Getting in his face and smiling is like a breath of fresh air. Using two fingers to shove his chest in the direction of the door feels safer than jerking him there by his collar like he so desperately wants to. 

Flashing lights and sirens appear around the bend of the road to the left of Billy and Eddie starts cackling, throws his head back and laughs so loud and free that Billy’s ears are ringing. He still doesn’t know where he is, what day or month it is, if he’s even stateside. So he takes a second to come up with a plan. He pushes into Eddie’s mind and reaches for the glimpse of the newspaper he looked through at breakfast this morning. The town wasn’t named in the headline which was a little odd but the date said it was December 13th, 1986. 

It hits Billy as he’s climbing over fences and running barefoot through dense forest that he’s nineteen years old. He hadn’t thought about his birthday at all, hasn’t been excited about it in nearly ten years. It feels huge, somehow. He spent over a year in the basement of someone’s fucked up fantasy. He’s nineteen, he’s died and come back to life, been possessed by a shadow monster, has killed more people than he can willingly keep track of. But he’s nineteen. He makes it to a cliff’s edge, bare feet aching and bleeding under him. He looks out across the water and it hits him so viscerally. He’s at the fucking quarry. He’s in Hawkins, Indiana and he’s nineteen and he’s at the fucking quarry.

A sob rips itself from his chest and echoes painfully around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> up next: our boys finally get to see each other in the flesh


	6. Out of the black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back one more time and then it might take a while for us to go from here  
We're getting into the thick of it, lotsa plot coming right up!  
also I've run out of song lyrics for chapter titles so if you can guess the song from this point on I will think you're amazing.  
a bit of some tipsy driving on Steve and Hopper.   
I in no way, shape, or form agree with tipsy or drunk driving.

Steve made it home in time for the kids’ Christmas sweater party on Saturday, the 13th. Dream still stuck in a loop in his head. Billy had been wearing the same clothes he had on when he died and that stuck like cinnamon in the back of his throat. He comes into the entrance of the bunker and feels warm, warmer than sitting in the Florida sun. Smells the deliciousness of chocolate and peppermint, fresh pine Christmas tree waiting to be decorated in the corner of their makeshift living room. Steve always loved Christmas. Thought it was incredible how his family came together for the first time in months to appreciate each other’s company and binge on desserts. 

The kids are sitting around the radio that Murray was adamant they didn’t use inside the bunker. Max’s eyes are watery but she’s smiling at something Will says. Steve throws his bag down on the floor loudly and the room goes quiet before erupting into chaos. What feels like hundreds of arms are circling around him in hugs and not so discreet checks for injuries. Joyce is slamming something down in the kitchen and rushing in with tears in her eyes. The kids part like the sea to let Joyce hug him. She checks his shoulders and ribs, looks into his eyes before kissing his temples and rubbing his back. Makes him feel so warm and welcome that his eyes water on their own accord too. Nancy comes up the basement steps and smiles, genuinely smiles in a way Steve hasn’t seen her do in so long it aches in his chest. Jonathan steps in behind her and welcomes him home with a small smile and a half wave. It feels like Christmas. 

The kids- or teens now, huh?- tell him about their classes, their favorite subjects. Dustin’s gone crazy over math, Lucas loves literature and Max thinks that woodworking in the workshop is her best outlet. Mike and Jane are holding hands on the couch, Hop’s eyes flicking over to them every few minutes. Eggnog gets passed around, sober and sauced. Everyone has their sweaters on except him, didn’t plan this out that well, with his dark blue hoodie. Nancy walks down to the basement and then comes back up with a black plastic bag in hand. Steve thinks it’s liquor, feels the welling of hope of a good night’s sleep in his chest only for her to throw a bright red piece of fabric at his face. It’s a Santa hat and Steve laughs for a second before putting it on and fixing his hair underneath.

He makes eyes with Murray, nods briefly at him before smiling back to the kids. He’s noticed Will watching him from the corner of his eye, just barely there looks that send an alarm down Steve’s spine. Will glances at Steve then over to Jane and then back, shakes his head while he clenches his hands on his knees and pointedly looks at the ground. It sets Steve on an edge he didn’t want to be on, being home and warm and around family. Like life couldn’t fucking pause for him for two fucking hours. 

They settle in to eat, roast and chicken and some other beef stew thing that Steve thinks he’s never seen before but he might’ve liked last year at the Byers’ Christmas dinner. The sides are plenty and Steve feels the weight of food settle in his stomach, stretches his hands above his head and sighs with how nice it is to be somewhere that feels more like home than Hawkins ever did. Surrounded by people with shared life experience, who know the bumps in the night, the silent screams and all. Hop’s face gets drawn together, tension radiating off him as he makes eye contact with Steve then Nancy and Jonathan. 

“Max, wanna tell us about what happened Thursday?” His voice isn’t loud, but it draws all attention to him and then to Max. Forks hitting plates and glasses being sat down. The kids already look like they’re on edge, probably already know what Max is about to say but Steve can’t focus on that. Focuses instead on how her blue eyes look more like Billy’s than he’s ever seen, knows that’s impossible but the vision still remains. She’s looking at the white lace table cloth under her plate, chewing on her lip.

“Detective Dominique has been watching me around school.” She says quietly. “He hasn’t said words to me yet, but he’s creepy.”  
Jane murmurs a quiet “mouth breather” and Max nods in agreement. 

“But Thursday I went to school and this,” she pulls out a folded piece of white paper from her jean’s pocket. “This was waiting in my locker.” Her voice is watery. “He watched me look at it, I caught him walking around the halls after school too. It’s really freaking me out, guys. I can’t seem to get away from him. When this all started, it was easy to lay low, like seriously low. Neil hasn’t had a screaming fit in three weeks. Mom’s been getting out of the house more, but she says she’s only going to Stacy Gudbranson’s house to take care of her sick grandma.” 

The paper gets passed around, Hopper not even glancing at it, probably had already seen it. Joyce puts a hand over her mouth, Nancy side eyes Steve and Dustin goes straight for the jugular, like fucking usual.

“So, is Billy like your….” Dustin asks, voice low but eyes wide on Steve.

“My? My what?” Steve adjusts himself in his seat, leaning forward to snatch the note from Jonathan, patience thin and anxiety flooding his veins. He stares at the picture. Thinks it’s impossible that someone could’ve gotten that picture in the first place, this was from his dream. He’s spent the last week and a half in fucking Florida for chrissakes, there’s no way that this picture was taken in a real life setting. Remembers this dream vividly, it was one of the only ones that Billy let him have to know he was okay. 

In the picture Steve is holding Billy’s hand, their heads are close together, hair covering their eyes but not enough to hide the determined faces they were making at each other, and if Steve couldn’t explicitly remember what Billy was actually saying to him it would look like they were more lovers than fighters. Billy was telling him to go home, Steve was covered in the mud that kept Billy’s casket underground. 

He’s at a loss for words, eyes flicking around the faces nearest him before he heaves a sigh and shoves his hair away from his face. He knows he needs to explain himself, explain what this picture actually is, but not for the first time, his tongue fails him. Instead he looks at the picture, looks at Max, nods once and stands abruptly. He walks, careful steps, over to the wet bar Murray has set up in each room and grabs the first bottle his fingers touch. He drinks until he feels the burn in his throat, sighs when he swallows. Folds the picture back up and slides it in his back pocket.

“Okay, so, short story. Billy was in my dream. That picture? That’s from my dream. All I remember is slinging mud with a shovel and then he was holding his hand out to pull me out of his grave. Told me to come home and find him.” Jonathan’s brow furrowed, he had his thinking face on and Steve waited him out, eager for someone else to take the stage. 

“So, if that’s from your dream how was it developed and then copied?” He asked, not meeting Steve’s eyes, looking just off Steve’s right shoulder. “I mean, they had to have had a way to physically shoot that. If it’s from your dream, then how?” 

The question went unanswered, Steve staring blankly at the wall, trying to remember everything Billy had said to him the first visit. Remembered seeing him, clear as day. Remembered-

“He said that someone else knew that I was looking for him and knew he was attempting to contact back. He said that the first time, his exact words were ‘if I know then they sure as fuck do too’.” He looked at Hopper and rolled his shoulders back. “You think Dominique is in on whatever’s holding Billy?” 

Jane’s head snapped up from where she had been whispering to Max. She was staring intently at Hopper, it kinda unnerved Steve to see her gaze that intense in a normal, not life ending, setting. Hopper shook his head, harshly, once. Jane squinted her eyes at him then went back to whispering to Max. 

“Honestly, I don’t know. The last I had heard from Callahan, the shit show was almost over. Said the agents were losing numbers, most of ‘em being reassigned to other states and that Hawkins would probably be clear free in a few more weeks.” Hop looked from kid to kid, then to the three young adults. “Eddie Dominique is like a dog with a bone, though. Intense, assholic, not someone you’d wanna get stuck in a dark alley with.” He looks at Max, sighs and rubs a big hand down his face and into his beard. “I think we should plate this conversation for later, let everyone think it over and come together to make a plan.” 

Joyce shook her head, unnervingly quiet during the whole exchange. She started taking dirty dishes into the kitchen and Steve followed. They worked in silence and Steve was grateful for it. Scrubbed dish after dish, handed them to Joyce as she washed and dried. 

“I never thanked you.” He said, softly, watching bubbles roll over his knuckles as his fingers clenched around the sponge to get rid of the excess water. Couldn’t bring his eyes to look at her.

“For what, hun?” 

“For letting me have this.” His voice broke, a soft change in pitch and a burning feeling down his throat. “I’ve left so many times and you always welcome me back.” 

“Oh, Steve.” She sighed, not resigned or annoyed like his own mother would do, but softly. “You never have to ask to come back. You will always have a space with us and we will always want you around. You never have to worry about us leaving you. You can explore, go off on your own, get your own space. But we’d be lying if we said we didn’t miss you.” She smiled up at him, patted his cheek and then pointed at the sink. “Don’t forget to empty the drains, please.” 

And that was- that was classic Joyce. Drop an emotional bomb on him like that and then let him figure it through in his own head. Knew that’s how Steve functioned. Needed everything said in black and white, then needed to be left alone to find the words in between. 

Murray and Hop argued over how to put lights on the tree, both a bit too drunk and loose to really argue over it like they would before that kind of small truce was made. Steve’s warm, forcefully relaxed into an armchair, Dustin at his feet explaining how his geometry teacher taught them equations the wrong way. Jane keeps looking at him now too, eyes too serious for their surroundings and Steve feels a weird pressure in his chest. Steve lets Dustin finish and makes an excuse about needing a drink before he can start up again. Can feel Jane following behind him. Thinks about the day they decided to stick to Jane instead of El. Thought about if it was really that much safer, considering the bad guys already knew both names. Shrugged it off and jumped up on the one empty space on the counter and started chewing on this thumbnail. 

“Billy.” Is all she said at first, Steve knew better than to speak yet, knew to let her figure her words out to make the right sentence. She gets annoyed when someone speaks too quickly or tries to guess what she’s saying before she can get into it. Steve thinks she deserves to be heard and he waits for her. 

“Billy is… mad?” She nods once before meeting Steve’s eyes. “Billy is mad, hurt his feet. I think he’s lost. Like home but… darker. Colder.” Her brows are furrowed over her warm brown eyes. She’s grabbing clean dishes from the rack and putting them away, picked that nervous habit up from Steve. It’d be kinda funny and cute if she weren’t so focused on something not in the room with them. Steve thinks about his dream, thinks about Billy begging him to come home and find him. Didn’t even fucking know how to go about that. 

Steve vaguely thinks about the two hour drive back to Hawkins. Thinks about the fact that he doesn’t even know where Billy is in the first place to be able to think about travel plans much less how fast he’d have to drive to make better time. But if Billy had absolutely no clue where he was either, if Billy could still reach out like he had done twice now to tell Steve where to find him it’d make it easier but he didn’t know about better. Steve thought about the small cemetery, thought about the brick sized headstone Billy had on a grassy knoll. 

“Quarry.” Jane says, voice low and eyes burning holes in Steve’s face. “He’s running in the woods, heading to the quarry. He asked me to ask you to meet him there. Said ‘bring shoes, pretty boy’.” She has a twisted smile on her face, it doesn’t reach her eyes.

Steve stops breathing completely, gives it a few seconds before he pulls air into his lungs and whispers, “he’s talking to you?” when she nods he jumps off the counter and bolts for the basement. Grabs the keys from the drawer where Murray thinks they’re hidden but no one has the heart to tell him it’s the first place everyone looks. Nancy must notice the tension in his face because she stands and follows him to the basement. Steve’s grabbing blankets, clothes and shoes. Throws it all in the duffel bag he empties on his cot. 

He grabs the first aid kit on his way by the bathroom and then finally looks into Nancy’s eyes. There’s something there he can’t put his finger on, and that overwhelms him how out of touch he is with the people that matter the most. He’s been running and running and running and never facing anything head on like he thought he would be doing by running. A grand illusion, emotional deceit is. He runs a hand through his hair, keeping eyes locked with her and waiting for her to speak first. A tense breath of air before Nancy hugs him. His arms feel weak as he wrapped a hand around her shoulders and releases quickly after.

“I’ve been worried you weren’t coming back this time.” She sighed, falling back and twisting her hair behind her ear. “Jonathan said you needed your own space, and while I agree that it was just eating away at me how we never talked before you left.” She looked into Steve’s eyes again, something resolute staring him in the face. “I know you’re leaving again, I didn’t think it would be this soon but if you really can’t stay-”

“Billy Hargrove is in Hawkins.” Steve blurts out before she can make any assumptions. 

“Oh.” She sighs, surprised with eyes wide. 

“Yeah, so I’m not abandoning anyone. I’m just- I’m just trying to keep him alive the second time around.” 

“Steve-” She sucks in a sharp breath at the wave of his hand. 

“Let’s just not and say we did?” His shoulders are up to his ears and he’s moving from foot to foot. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair quickly. “Look, Nance, you’re still my best girl, okay? There’s a few long conversations we gotta have but now is just not the time. Jane just told me he’s on foot, running in the woods and I gotta- fuck, there’s a lot you don’t know. I gotta make sure nothing happens to Hawkins or him.” 

Nancy nods, he knows she understands and knows she wants him to do this too. She may not have ever liked Billy but she knew what could happen if the wrong people in Hawkins saw him out and about, alive. She tells him that she’ll find Jane and they’ll fill in everyone else. Tells him to turn his fucking walkie on or she’ll shoot him. He nods at Max on his way out, her lip between her teeth and eyes red again. Switches over his bat and shovel to the van, dumps the duffel bag in and sets about going to Hawkins, driving 100 the entire way there. Breaks his timing record from three hours to an hour and a half. 

He pulls into the quarry, brights on and searching wildly. He pulls up to the ridge and in the headlights on the other side of the cavern he sees teenagers drinking around a fired near the shore below him. He slams the car door and watches their festivities. Remembered the parties around Christmas that were too cold, too noisy. Thinks of a time where he watched Billy out drink Benny Thornton, Benny running off to puke shortly after and Billy howling with laughter that echoed above the parties. 

Steve’s alone in the cold, in the darkest part of the quarry and he’s keeping his breathing light to hear around him better. He turned the motor and lights off, didn’t think to ask Jane where exactly Billy would wait for him just bolted and if that didn’t describe Steve’s entire life he’d laugh at himself for being stupid. He hears a low groan, a pained thing that has him on edge immediately. He looks out at the edge of the cliffed walls around the quarry and sees a figure sitting there. 

“Billy?” He asks hesitantly, feels off footed. Can’t seem to keep his feet from moving, stepping forward but also shifting his weight between the two, not wanting to accept failure and not knowing what was next if he was right.

Billy looks over his shoulder sharply, face hidden but eyes still bright. He stands and suddenly they’re both running for each other. Billy is three feet in front of him and Steve stops dead in his tracks. He’s covered in blood and black goo. He’s never looked so strung out, he’s practically dead on his feet as he makes the last few steps. He collides into Steve, not in like a hug or anything, but used Steve to stop his body from moving. Steve has to grab hold of Billy to keep them from falling over. Feeling something unlock in his chest and he’s clutching the back of Billy’s dirty white shirt and feels his heartbeat stutter and kick up.

“I’m sorry,” Billy whispers. “‘M’so fuckin’ sorry.” He chokes on a sob and Steve crumbles. They fall to the ground like that, Steve on his ass holding Billy so tight he’s sure Billy will have bruises. Both sniffling and choking back sobs. Steve wanted to make a joke about Billy actually knowing the word sorry, wanted to say anything that would make this moment lighter than it was. But it all sticks in Steve’s throat as he feels Billy breathing. 

Billy feels so cold that Steve starts shivering, remembers, belatedly, the blankets he brought in the van and wipes at his face. Shuffles around to get Billy standing again, leaning on Steve a little too heavily but he’ll take it. Billy breathing, alive, right next to him is more than answer enough for the grime that’s covering Steve now too. His heart pounds in his throat as they make it to the van. Billy leans against the side while Steve gets into the back and pulls out socks and shoes, blankets and clothes. He looks Billy up and down and nods to himself, gets a quirked eyebrow in response. 

The silence is so good that Steve can’t bring himself to break it, simply listens to Billy breathe while he gets them both in the front of the van and turns towards Hopper’s old cabin. Heat blasting through the vents and Steve revels in the way Billy stretches his fingers out to it, sighs happily when the air smacks him full force in the face. He never thought he would be so overjoyed with seeing Billy Hargrove in his entire life. Never once considered a fucked up sort of friendship could have ever been a thing between them. He pulls up to the cabin and they get out, Steve sees him over each trip wire, leaves Billy sitting on the couch to get the bag from the van and checks around the outside of the cabin for anything unusual. Hopper said someone had already gone through the place, ripped papers from drawers and overturned furniture to find evidence of something. Figured they’d be safe enough for Billy to get a shower and Steve to wrap his feet with medical gauze. 

“Water might not get too warm, but the shower is off that way.” Steve points left and Billy nods once before taking the offered clothes and padding softly out of the living room. 

Steve sits on the small couch and looks off into the dust covered corners, thinks about the first time he was at the cabin and smiles to himself. Hopper had asked him to swing by and pick something up to take to the Wheeler’s for Jane. She had hid behind Hop’s legs when Steve had come up to the door. She wouldn’t make eye contact but called him ‘pretty’ twice before he left, pink cheeked and huffing a small laugh. Hop had called Steve a few days later, asked him to help him with a few repairs. Steve didn’t know a damn thing about replacing wood planks, mending screens or installing glass panes but he did know that Hop’s cabin looked like someone took a nail riddled baseball bat to every orifice. He was very vague on what happened and Jane had a little smile on her face when Steve just got more and more confused. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, listening to the running water and the wind. 

Billy startles him awake when he sits on the couch next to him, reaching a hand out and shoving his chest back when Steve goes to jump forward. He’s surprised by the strength in Billy’s hand.

“Relax.” He says, voice pitched low and forcefully calm. His hand stays balanced across Steve’s chest, not pushing or holding but just simply there for the weight of it. Steve uses it, the weight, to pull in a long breath and examine Billy’s face. He has large, dark shadows around his eyes, faded bruising from his cheeks down to his neck and disappearing under the sweater he’d put on. The clothes hang off Billy in a bad way. He looks sallow, gaunt, like the wind would knock him over on a good day. His hair has started growing back, darker than his mullet was and Steve has a brief thought of if Billy ever dyed his hair. Missy Jaskin used to bleach her hair every two weeks, had natural shiny black hair so it always went muddy orange before she could get it to a frizzy platinum blonde. 

Steve blinks and the hand is gone and Billy is up off the couch and peeking around through the rooms in the cabin. Keeps shooting Steve these weird looks, where his eyebrows pull down and he almost looks like he’s about to say “what the fuck?” but he keeps padding around. He makes it to the kitchen before he makes a sound. 

“Okay, Harrington, I honestly thought I could trust your judgment.” Billy pulls the sleeves of the sweater over his hands and bounces his shoulders when he wiggles his eyebrows at Steve, hands and eyes gesturing around the room in a “what can you do” kind of way. “Where in the actual hell did you bring me?” 

The motions are so humanly Billy that Steve feels himself give a bit of a hysteric laugh. He puts his hands on his knees and leans down and he’s laughing so hard it hurts. He knows he looks fucking crazy, Billy’s probably pissed at him right now for being so fucking stupid but if he has to pretend that this is a level of normal with Billy any longer he’s definitely going to lose his fucking mind. He’s got his head between his knees and he’s choking on it, absolutely sobbing and can’t fucking bring himself to give two shits. He feels Billy slide in beside him on the couch, close enough that Steve can see his bare feet but far enough away that he can’t lean over and touch him. Thinks it’s the safest bet he’s felt in so long. 

“You fucking-,” he chokes on his next laugh. “You absolute fucking asshole.” It’s quiet for a long five seconds and then Billy huffs a laugh of his own and Steve is wiping his face and smiling at him and it just-

“You _died_,” Steve whispers, watching Billy’s face go guarded immediately. He hates it. Feels it settle in his gut that Billy is actually a fucking asshole. “How are you even sitting next to me right now?” __

_ _Billy looks at his feet, looks at the destroyed family room in front of them and sighs deeply. _ _

_ _“So we’re just gonna jump right into it?” He sounds reserved, not angry. His voice sounds deeper than it did before he died. “Don’t you have a nerd squad somewhere that’s waiting for you?” _ _

_ _“Don’t- don’t do that, okay?” Steve says softly, but won’t look at him. Won’t meet Billy’s eyes when they flick back over to him. Whatever Steve is about to say is cut off by the buzzing of the walkie in the duffel bag on the floor between them._ _

_ _ __“Scoops Troop come in, this is the Brady Bunch. Over.”___ _ __

_ _ _ _Steve groans and throws his head between his knees again. Grumbling along the lines of “fuckin’ christ” as he throws the bag open and roots around for the damn thing, ignoring Billy’s choked off snort of a laugh. Dustin and his fucking code names. He wonders if Murray made them watch the box set VHS of the show yet, whose idea it really was to use that code name. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“What?” Steve asks into the walkie._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ __“You’re supposed to say over when you’re done Steve, how many goddamn times do I gotta tell you? Have you found our missing player? Over.”___ _ _ _ __

_ _ _ _ _ _“Yeah, Dustin. I found ‘em. Where’s Hop?” Steve doesn’t miss how Billy blanches at Steve so casually asking for the Chief like that. It’s harder to quash that smile. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ __ “He is unavailable. Jane had him leaving shortly after you. Nancy says to come home, Murray says if another experiment comes here we’re all doomed and Hop just, well Hop is Hop so he hit Murray upside the head real hard and said to meet at the Cabin. Over.”___ _ _ _ _ _ __

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Billy has started frowning, looking at Steve with worried eyes. He’s listening to outside of the cabin, reaching out with his mind and feeling three presences. He stands, goes to the front window and peeks above the curtain rod, watching the brown blazer coming up behind the van. He’s tense as he sees two heads following behind the chief’s figure. Steve’s standing up and turning the walkie off, cutting Dustin’s words short. He’ll make it up to him, Steve’s got a lot to make up to him. Steve steps outside after giving Billy a look and receiving a nod. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Hop?” Steve asks, knowing that Hop is standing in front of him but confused about the two people behind him. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Is he here?” Hop asks, giving Steve a look, begging with his eyes for Steve to not ask questions. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Steve is good with people. He knows when he’s needed to shut up and step aside. He can see that exact look on Hopper’s face right now. Steve feels frozen, tells his feet to move and yet they stay exactly where they are. He can’t move any part of his body and he’s inwardly freaking out. Hopper looks pissed when he doesn’t move, goes to move around Steve and is suddenly falling down the two steps off the porch, Steve’s hands extended out. There’s a slam of the back door and Steve feels like his body has been released. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“What the actual fuck?” Steve snarls, jumping over the banister and running faster than Hopper to chase Billy out into the back lot. Dodging trees at night is something that Steve has gotten used to, learned the hard way how to do when he and Tommy would run from Tommy’s older brother. He hears a huff of a breath ten feet to his right and shoots off, jumping over a fallen tree and landing on his ass right next to Billy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“What the actual fuck?” Steve whispers and Billy gives him a dead look. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“He followed you here, what do you fucking mean ‘what the fuck’, Harrington?” Billy and Steve both lurch up at the same time Hopper’s hands latch onto their shoulders. They share a brief panicked look and then Billy is turning around and freezing in a way Steve’s scared to look too closely at. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“This was a mistake.” Billy said, looking straight into Steve’s eyes and turning to leave. Steve snatches his wrist up quickly, fingers overlapping and tight even though he knows Billy could break the hold. But Billy stops, quirking a brow at Steve again and Steve drops his wrist fast._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Come back to the cabin. He’ll leave.” Steve promises, knows that Billy knows it’s not exactly a promise he can keep. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Billy’s looking at the ground around them with his lip between his teeth and his brows low over his eyes. His eyes flick across the ground and then settle on something. Steve watches him walk back over to the tree they had sat behind and picks up a square of white paper and Steve feels his stomach fall to his feet. Can see the panic cross Billy’s face from where he’s standing, watches him look over every square inch of the picture and then those cold blue eyes are flicking up and meeting with Steve’s._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Is this?” He croaks. “Is this when I told you?” He’s on an edge that only Steve can walk him off, Hopper going so still next to Steve like he’s trying to be one with the trees._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Yeah. Uh, yeah. I don’t-” Steve reaches up, almost out, and rubs the back of his neck. He can’t meet Billy’s eye, can’t stop looking at the paper between Billy’s fingers._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“I do.” His voice is cold and dead. He looks over at Hopper and his face does a complicated thing, looks like the lights go off and someone isn’t home. “You do, too.” He accuses, blinking back to himself and it’s the second weirdest thing Steve’s seen that night._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Don’t fucking get in my head again or this is all over, you got that?” Hopper steps forward, keeps his hands by his sides, with an effort that Steve sees clearly, and glares into Billy’s cold stare. Steve whirls around on him and glares right back. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“What does he mean you know, Hop?” Steve asks calmly. Keeps his nerves inside his stomach, keeps his feet planted. Holds his gaze steady and firm. Shows Hop that this isn’t something that can be deflected._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Can we please go back to the cabin and talk? There’s two teenage girls waiting for us.” Hopper slides his hands down his face and rolls his shoulders. “Talk about everything, connect everything we know. Nothing held back, I promise. Jane wouldn’t let me.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _And suddenly Steve sees what’s happening, sees realization on Billy’s face and panic and down right misery. They all know Max is waiting in that house but only Billy knows that he’s too weak to leave now. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Max?” He croaks and Hopper nods once. Billy has tears in his eyes, not spilling over, but they make his eyes glow eerily where they’re standing. “Fuck. I can’t, I fucking can’t.” He’s looking anywhere but at Steve or Hopper or the direction back to the cabin. Steve can’t tell what he’s thinking or feeling, wants to reach a steadying hand out like Billy did for him earlier but thinks it might be unwelcome in front of Hopper. Billy nods once, eyes still closed and Hopper turns his back swiftly. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _When Hopper’s a solid ten feet away, Steve reaches out and grabs Billy’s wrist. He jerks slightly, looks at Steve and then at their hands before sighing and dropping his shoulders. Steve doesn’t say anything, doesn’t push farther into Billy’s space. Just holds his wrist while he collects himself and then shakes him off. Steve follows a foot to the left of Billy as they walk through the woods and feels like something huge has shifted._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	7. I'll see you in my dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed some flangst before we get to the real plot  
more comedic relief as the kids get more involved, Billy eventually realizes he gives a shit and deserves shit  
also Billy walking away from Steve instead of hitting him?? A changed man.

The party is in full swing by the time Billy realizes that it’s not real. Tommy’s hand is heavy on his shoulder as he helps him back from the keg and instead of cheering into the sky, Billy turns tail and heads inside. He walks over coffee tables and a couch to get to Steve who is, predictably, standing against the wall with Nancy. Just like how it actually happened, Billy takes his cigarette out of his mouth and Steve pulls his sunglasses off his face. He’s so caught up in how unnatural this feels that he doesn’t even notice Tommy sidle up next to him and sneer into Steve’s face, doesn’t notice Nancy roll her eyes and walk off, doesn’t notice anything except the bright look in Steve’s eyes.

“Come here often?” Is what slips out of Steve’s mouth and Billy just bursts out laughing.

“Fuck kinda dream is this, man? You searching for some nostalgia?” 

He feels a weird swoop in his stomach and then the scene is changing. He’s standing in the Byers’ kitchen and Steve’s on the floor looking up at him and opening his mouth to say something but the loud screeching sound from outside of the house has them both giving pause. Steve’s face is as purple and black as Billy so vividly remembers from that night and he wants to puke, to get sick and force the remaining parts of his dad out. Wants to let the monster outside eat him whole to repent for ever hurting Steve like that. Chokes on his tongue as he thinks that feeling over.

“This isn’t my dream, dude.” Steve says harshly, standing up and using his fingers to separate the curtains in the kitchen window. “Can you, like, think of something else, please?” He’s holding his hands over his ears, glancing anxiously to the window and then back to Billy. “Like, any time now, Hargrove!” 

The same feeling in his gut and they’re in a steel plated room, metal shining like sin and cold cold cold. Billy’s heart sinks as he looks around, fully fucking aware of what he’s brought Steve into. The guards can’t see Steve but they can see Billy, and they come marching in, seven of them. Two grabs his arms and hauls him back into the chamber. Head pushed violently against the metal back until the black strap is tightened across his forehead. Billy won’t look at Steve, can’t see what expression is on his face while he watches this happen. Useless to fight anything, knows how much it hurts if he tried. So Billy takes it, he takes it and takes it and takes it. They leave him gasping for breath, each one using his torso as their favorite punching bag. He’s choking on the breath he can’t keep in his lungs and-

Then there’s quiet. The faint sound of water lapping at walls starts feeding into Billy’s senses. He’s on his hands and knees, gasping for air, turning his head wildly to make sense of where he is. The pool shines a vibrant blue, casts everything in soft blue tones and shadows. It’s eerie, it’s strange, it’s… it’s Steve’s house. Steve isn’t outside but a red headed girl is. She’s sitting on the diving board and sticking her feet in the water, looking down, the shine of the water reflected across her glasses. She looks sad, almost haunted and Billy’s watching her as she sighs and twists her feet, creates the waves that lap against the pool and echo in Billy’s ears. 

“You know it helps if you breathe in through your nose right?” The girl says, offers a small smile and then looks back to the water. “My dad always said that.” 

“You, uh, you can see me?” He asks, voice wrecked and throat so sore. 

She shrugs before she glances back up at him. “People come and go. Usually it’s just Steve or Nance, but I’m open to someone different every now and then.” He can feel her looking over him, still on his hands and knees but his shoulders have drooped and he’s not as panicky now. “You look like you need a poolside conversation on how not to hate yourself for things you couldn’t change. Turns out that I’m the professional in that field.” She shrugs again and before she can say anything else Steve comes bolting out from the house.

“Oh god, good, you’re still- you’re still here.” Steve rushes through his words like that’s all he knows. Rush in and rush out. 

The girl gives him a bland smile. “I’m here every time you come to check, Steve. If I could fuck off to anywhere else I surely would.” 

The panic stricken look on Steve’s face morphs into one of great sadness. It jerks Billy back into motion, standing up quickly and shaking his head, can feel sweat rolling down his temples. He glances around the backyard and watches the pool light flicker and then cut out. Can hear Steve’s sucked in breath and he shouts a quick “Barb!” before the ground shakes and black hands are reaching through murky pool water to grab the girl’s ankles. They drag her down deeper than the pool actually allowed. Her glasses float up to the diving board. 

The sick and cold feeling radiates from Billy’s stomach and to his chest as the trees pop up around him and Steve. They’re suddenly in the woods above the quarry, Billy can taste the way the trees move in the air and it sets him so on edge that he jumps at Steve’s hand on his arm. Meets Steve’s eyes and watches him put a finger to his lips in a ‘keep quiet’ gesture and points to one of the monsters not fifteen feet to the left of them. Billy’s heart rate jacks up and he sees a flash of fire red hair bolting between trees. He’s made his mind up before he even knows what’s happening. Making incredible noise and running in the opposite direction of the way Max was. Leading the monster off her trail, away from Steve and farther into the unknown woods. 

Long, scaly talon like hands are reaching for him, he’s almost to the edge and wants to bow down to let the thing fly above and over him but-- but he trips. He fucking trips and the thing is right on top of him, claws holding his shoulders down and its mouth wide open. Millions and millions of razor sharp teeth smiling down at him and-

He bolts awake, sweat running down his face and chest. White sheets pooled around his waist, sweater he had worn to bed thrown across the room, one sock halfway off one foot and the other missing entirely. He’s breathing harshly, can’t remember where the fuck he is or who brought him here until there’s a soft knock at the door and relief comes flooding through his veins when he open his door and waves Steve inside. They’re still in the cabin, still in Hawkins. 

“What kind of fucked up ‘I’ll show you mine’ kinda shit was that, Harrington?” The anger that used to lace his voice when talking to Steve has long since faded. Life ending, or nearly life ending, situations must do that to people. He was tired, felt like he’d been run over twice and while he was sweating through his sheets he still felt too fucking cold. Wondered if he’d always freeze. 

“Wish I fuckin’ knew, you’re the one with the ‘bility to get into heads.” He yawns and Billy takes stock of him. His hair is worse than Billy’s old bed head, which is really saying something, looks almost like he was trying to pull it clean off his head. His eyes keep drooping and then shooting back open, blinking around quickly and then checking over at Billy before he looks down again. 

“Never did it unconcious.” Billy grunts, sliding under the sheets and pulling them up to his shoulders in some attempt to keep the cold out. “Always had to put my big brain to work.” 

It gets a huff out of Steve and Billy revels in it silently. He leans his head back and listens around him. Can hear Jane and Max’s huffs and small snores from the living room, the crackles of the fire in the fireplace dwindling down, Hoppers’ deep snores from the other bedroom across the cabin. He listens to Steve, focuses on his breathing and the slight hitch he hears in it. Nudges him with his socked toes to get him to turn from leaning on the foot board post and meet his gaze.

“Y’okay?” He asks as quietly as he can, fears someone else is listening in on this moment. It’s nearly silent in the house, he knows no one else is awake but this feels like it’s flimsy to begin with and he doesn’t want to snap it the way he so often used to do. 

“I- uh, yeah. ‘Bout as okay as I can be for now. You?” Steve’s hand makes its way through his hair, pushing it back from his face as his brown eyes settle on Billy and don’t falter. There’s a hint of concern in them, confusion, but mostly deep rooted exhaustion. 

He makes the decision before he fucking thinks about it, which is probably his first mistake. Gently pats the pillows next to him, lies on his back and stares up at the ceiling before he makes the second mistake of looking at Steve.

“I’m still fucking irritated that Chief Hopper is making us wait until tomorrow to talk about what’s going on when there’s still fucking maniacs looking for me.” He feels the pause in the room, like Steve’s thinking his answer over but he knows that Steve is actually thinking his gesture over. So Billy sighs, heavily, and looks back to the ceiling. “Will you just lay down, please?” He asks, like it’s something selfish for him. 

But Steve gets up and walks out, can’t even be fucked to close the door behind him he just bolts. Billy wishes it didn’t sting, that he hadn’t put the offer out there in the first place. Couldn’t figure out what he was thinking exactly when he did it, emotions so raw after spending two hours in this same room with Max. He’s thinking about the tears in her eyes and how they talked about nothing and everything at the same time. Drawing from memory how her hands fidgeted in her lap, like she wanted to reach out and feel that he was really there but didn’t want to cross the line they invisibly set years ago. He’s halfway to panic by the time Steve returns, arms filled with blankets but one hand poking out from under the stack to show Billy he was clutching a pack of Marlboros and a shiny silver zippo. He quietly closes the door and then tosses every single blanket on top of Billy. 

“Looks like you needed ‘em more than the hall closet did.” He shrugs, sits down next to Billy, uses the headboard to lean down and grab a small black ash tray that he sets on his knee between them before offering out a cigarette. “Also knew I couldn’t get through this conversation without these.” He chuckles, but it’s miserable. 

It burns Billy in the best way, the warmth that settles over him so sudden. It’s been forever since something warmed him like this, he allowed himself a satisfied sigh as he settled their weight above him and gratefully took the smoke. Lets himself watch the bright orange-red flicker across Steve’s face before he takes the lighter. 

“I didn’t, uh, I guess I shouldn’t have assumed that you’d be on, like, a vacation or something.” Steve starts out, looking anywhere but at him and Billy’s toes are starting to feel cold again. “Guess I should’ve known that if you did survive that it wouldn’t be pretty. Thought once that you were stuck-” he pulls in a deep breath, exhales smoke from his lungs and runs a hand through his hair. “We looked, there, you know? Jane searched endlessly once she regained that part of her powers again, took some time and nothing ever came of it.”

“Why?” Billy whispered, hating the pitiful tone it held. “I saw- I saw a few times but she never saw me.” His throat clicked, loud in the severe quiet.

“I wish I could say it was for Max but…” Steve had drawn out the but, leading emphasis on something that confused Billy even more.

“You?” He asked, incredulous. “You wanted to find me?” He couldn’t stop himself from watching Steve’s face, the tense line of his shoulders or the way he avoided Billy’s gaze entirely. Watched Steve’s eyes flick from cigarette to ash tray to wall to window before setting on the sheets curled around his ankles. 

“It just- I just- fuck.” He shook his head harshly, finally finally finally meeting Billy’s eyes. “I got so fucking mad over it. It ate me up, knowing everything at the end and realizing how powerless we were, how much help we could’ve given-.” 

“Are you stupid or something?” Billy’s voice was low, edge cold. “If you even so much as talked to me when that fucking thing was inside me you would’ve died. I would’ve given you up, like I did to Heather, like I made Heather do to her parents. I gave up on people, on kids, that I didn’t even fucking know, you think I would’ve stopped for you and your merry band of idiots? You know this is the way it had to be, Steve.” 

Steve slides down the bed, chin high and eyes pointed to the ceiling. He breathes deep, cigarette forgotten in the ashtray now settled between their hips. 

“I know, like, realistically that I couldn’t have done anything. They call it ‘survivor’s guilt’ or, at least, Robin calls it that. I know, I damn well know, that I couldn’t change anything. It’s not the first time I’ve been put in a position and someone died because I didn’t have my shit together. It’s not the first time I’ve signed government contract after government contract to keep my mouth shut about something I shouldn’t have been involved with in the first damn place. It just felt like this was something so much bigger, that I could do something bigger than beat some monsters with a bat or set fire to a fucking tunnel.” 

He turns, looks at Billy and Billy’s heart kicks into high gear at the look of absolute misery on his face.

“I got brutally interrogated by some Russians to save Dustin and Erica, Robin and I got shot up with something and tripped fucking balls for goddamn hours, I was still tripping when I rammed that car into yours.” Billy sucks in a sharp breath, can visualize his hands on his steering wheel just clenching and unclenching as he fought the devil inside and fucking lost. 

He’s caught up on the mention of Russians, snaps his gaze to Steve’s and nods like he’s ready to hear the details but Steve just shakes his head.

“It’s not important now.”

“Like hell it isn’t. I was only around one American and a Russian-English translator the entire time they had me. What the fuck happened with the Russians?” Billy knew the angry edge to his voice didn’t help Steve, knew that it could even escalate things but Steve only thinned his lips and then nodded once.

“Dustin heard a weird code being put out through his walkie frequencies. Robin, him and I spent so long translating it for Robin to step outside the ice cream parlour and crack it in three minutes. Figured out there were Russian labs way underground, under the mall. They were, uh, they were creating a weapon to open the portal I guess, one that opened the gate for the monsters.” 

Billy laid, stock still, and thought it all over. Connected the parts where the monster wanted him to go to the mall, to prevent the kids, prevent Jane, from closing the gate to stop the army from building and prospering. How the blast under the mall hurt more than the claws digging into his torso, white hot pain that left just as soon as it came and the monster went down. The Russians were opening that door wide open, using what happened to Billy to create more data and do the same fucking thing somewhere else. Using him as their experiment, were probably planning on opening his body as a vessel for the thing again.

“They,” His voice is wrecked, a strange croaking sound until he tried to swallow. “They, uh, kept injecting me with something. They’d do that, make me wait half an hour and then throw me in a cage with a monster. The monsters changed every time, sometimes they could stand like a person and other times they would crawl.” 

His hands were shaking as he wiped them over his face, scars silver in the soft moonlight from the window. He doesn’t tell Steve about the beatings, the times he was so sore from being hit that he’d almost begged for his dad, the delirious delight he got from blood stained teeth and wild laughter when he could fight back with his mind instead of his fists, could cause more damage to anyone else than they ever could to him. He felt superhuman in those times, bled like a mere mortal, but mentally he reigned king in his capture. 

“I’m not- I don’t know what they actually did to me. There was one other person, once. A girl, I think. She was in a gown and had blood coming from her eyes and ears. The doctors had disappointed looks on their faces so I guess she was like me and just couldn’t take it. Guess that makes me special, huh.” It wasn’t a question so much as a jab at himself. Throws himself back in the memory of being carted down the hall, toes dragging on cold cement, and seeing the open door, hearing the fast Russian and following the girl collapsed on the floor with a dark puddle under her head with his eyes until they turned a corner to the stairs. 

“But now I can just look at things or people and be able to push and reach them with my mind. I can allow myself to float so far into someone else’s head and manipulate what they see and think and feel and I just- I’m so fucking scared, I thought I would die before I said anything like this but from the monster and now being turned into whatever this is I can’t-”

Billy didn’t feel the wet hot tears slipping down his face until Steve wiped his fingers across his cheek and he shut his jaw with a snap. Ground his molars down into each other to keep from going on, hating himself for not reigning it in. 

“I, uh, I don’t know how to reassure you that everything is going to be okay. I’m not sure how to comfort you, or anything, but _fuck_ Billy, you’re not alone. Okay? You’re never going back to that.” Steve’s insistent, punctuating his words with wiping tears off Billy’s face and Billy can’t fucking take it anymore, feels the need to hurt buzzing under his skin and bites his tongue so hard he’s swallowing blood.__

_ _“I don’t fucking need your comfort or protection, Harrington.” He jerks his head back, knows how cold his eyes look when he glares at Steve. “And I obviously didn’t need your help getting out since I goddamn did it by myself.” He sits up and goes to shove his feet off the bed when Steve’s grip turns solid on his elbow._ _

_ _“No, nope, nah, sorry, not fucking buying it. You don’t get to do this. You died to save us-”_ _

_ _“To save Max-”_ _

_ _“To save us, all of us. You sacrificed yourself, I watched you fucking do it. Don’t fucking coward out on us now. None of us get to live normal lives, carrying around the weight of your secret-”_ _

_ _“_MY_ secret? _MY_ fucking secret, Harrington? Nooo, no, you knew long before I did what the fuck these things were and the threat level to everyone was. I go out one night to get my dick wet and suddenly I’m possesed by some monster but it’s my fucking secret right?” He does shove off the bed then, ripping his arm from Steve’s hand as he whirls around and points a finger at the other man. “I survived by the seat of my pants, I barely made it out of there alive or sane. I did what I had to fucking do. It’s not my fucking fault you couldn’t accept that I was willing to give myself up in repentence for what I’d done. It’s not my fucking fault you went chasing for a ghost that never was, wasted your time hiding when you could’ve accepted the reality that you didn’t give a single shit about me until you realized you couldn’t play the beloved savior in the end, you fucking asshole.” _____ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Steve’s stunned, sitting in the bed with eyes wide and watching Billy. Billy’s breathing hard, can hear footsteps creaking across the floor towards them and shuts his eyes in an attempt to control himself. He’s only just remembered he’s shirtless, standing in front of Steve with his scars on full display. Dents in his sternum and ribs, above his naval and on top of his hips. He’s cold, feels nearly colder than he did in his cell. He’s so tense, feels all his muscles are taut like rubber bands just seconds before snapping._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“That night at the Byers’, you came so close to finding out then and it was all I could do to keep you out. Then Max- Max sedated you and there it was, our golden moment of escape.” He’s white knuckling the sheets and looking at his hands. He laughs, but it’s so cold. “It wasn’t that you couldn’t handle knowing, it’s that I couldn’t handle two monsters trying to kill me at the same time.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _And that-- that fucking guts Billy. He knows he deserves it but can’t help the pain coursing through him. He snatches his sweater off the floor and hurriedly puts it on, finds his other sock in the mess of sheets and jumps on one foot to slip it on before switching over to adjust the other one. He wraps two big blankets around his shoulders and ignores Steve as he walks out of the room quietly and passes Max standing in the hallway, her eyes wide and mouth gaped slightly. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _He’s standing on the front porch area of the cabin, fingers laced together over the wooden railing and breath clouding in the cold air. He’s freezing, pulling the blankets tighter and tighter around him as he looks up and attempts to make out constellations between treetops. He can tell it’s close to dawn, sees the sky beginning to change colors, dark blue fading into a purplish hue. He’s tired and pissed off and so badly just wants to leave right this instant. Just hide somewhere forever and never have to see Steve Harrington and his stupid fucking friends again. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _The door behind him opens and he knows it’s Max before she comes up next to him. She has two mugs of tea in her hands, one stretched out to Billy in truce. He instantly deflates, accepts the mug with a noncommittal grunt and looks back to the sky. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Glad to see dying hasn’t changed your level of stupid.” It’s a joke she’s already made, when they wouldn’t admit either of them were teary eyed sitting five feet apart when Billy first came back into the cabin. “He wanted me to give these to you.” She says, one wrist flopping towards him over the ledge, pack of cigarettes and lighter poking between her fingers. He accepts, not showing outwardly how grateful he is to have something to do with his mouth other than fucking talk._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _They stand there for a few minutes, sipping tea and blowing clouds of breath and smoke into the air before Max speaks again. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“He’s not wrong, Billy.” She looks up to him, eyes meeting his own without any sign of uncertainty. She’s never had a problem butting heads with him, never was scared of yelling matches. “You can’t- you can’t coward out now.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _He sighs, deeply, and looks off to think about what she’s implying. She takes his silence as answer enough and continues on._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Neil was more fucked up, after you died.” She ignores his quip of ‘language’ with a roll of her eyes and a flop of her wrist at him again. “Whatever, asshole. Anyways, your dad took it, like, super personal. There were a few days that he scared us, mom and me, drank all day and screamed and cried about you all night. Made comments like ‘wife and son, never could keep a good thing’ and just absolute crazy shit.” She rolls her shoulders, obviously shaking off bad memories. “He accused me, accused Steve. Kept trying to get Hopper to open investigations on people who weren’t even involved. I wasn’t allowed to see anyone in the party until he got sober.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Billy fucking hates this, hates the wistful tone in her voice._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Your room looks exactly the same. Mom keeps it dusted, convinced if it’s up to your standards you’ll just pop right back in.” She huffs out a sigh. “Neil wouldn’t even let me steal a hoodie from your closet.” She smiles sadly, a few tears running down her cheek that she’s quick to wipe away and that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _He’s sobbing, ugly and violent, into the early morning air. Lowers his head until the blankets shift from his shoulders and over his ears, cocoons himself in an attempt to hide the body shaking sobs he’s letting out. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“I got you that new Metallica album for your birthday.” He can hear the waver in her voice, knows she’s crying too. “Saved my allowance for three months, didn’t want to chance not having enough. I didn’t go to the arcade or anything.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Stop, Max, _please_-” He can’t see anything around him, can’t feel his face or his hands but he can’t stop fucking crying. Can’t stop the sharp pain in his chest at the image of Max in the record store in California, when Billy showed her own to find the good music and avoid the bad shit, or of Max holding an album for a band she doesn’t even like while thinking about Billy being dead. ___ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Everything was so awful without you and that surprised me more than you dying did.” She whispers. He reaches out and grabs the first thing his fingers can land on, clutches tight until she wriggles her wrist from him and pulls him into a tight hug._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“I know this is against the rules, Billy, but I missed you. Don’t kick my ass for it, please. I just- it’s been-” She’s sobbing into his chest and he’s dropped the mug over the railing and is clutching her to him as hard as he can._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“I don’t- I don’t care about rules anymore, Max. I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“You’re my brother, asshole.” She cries, hand reaching up to push his shoulder gently. “Just actually act like now, okay? Like Cali but- but better?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“But better.” He confirms, holds her head to his chest a little longer before he steps back and tries to pull himself together again. So many cycling emotions between Steve and Max and Billy’s ready to fall out._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _The sun is rising, beautiful orange-pink-purple above them and it feels like a deep breath of fresh air. He feels tightly strung but molded together better. They spend some time watching the sky, breathing together and allowing the emotions to settle between them again. He hears the heavy feet hitting the floor and isn’t surprised when Hopper speaks behind them. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“We’ve got breakfast going, if you guys decide you wanna eat where it’s warm.” He’s raising an eyebrow at Max and Billy just nods and waves him off, can see Steve walking through the cabin behind the large man and sucks on his teeth. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _There’s no long conversation explaining themselves, no apologies or tears shed. Just Steve sitting across the small dining table from him, offering him cream and sugar for his coffee. Max is at his elbow, talking to Jane across the table as Hopper leans on the counter by the sink and watches the four of them with exhaustion written across his face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Yeah and then he used to tell Tricia Morgansen that since I have red hair I have no soul and if she didn’t leave before his dad got home I would-” Max was saying when Billy finally tunes into the conversation and can’t stop himself from reaching out and shoving her face to the left, his palm rests across her cheek and fingers push her grinning mouth closed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“It’s rude to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations, Maxine.” He says calmly, taking a sip of coffee with the other hand and winks at Jane when she laughs quietly. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Steve meets his eyes across the table and bobs his head before reaching a curled hand over his chewing mouth and saying “Good story.” His eyes hold a taunting light in them, a question of if joking is okay and Billy just grins, feels it split his face, sharp, like it used to and leans over the table to get more into Steve’s space._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Let her tell the story about the time she walked in on Carla Santino in the dressing room and I had to wrestle ‘er off her because she told Max she was too big for a two piece dive suit.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Billy oh my god-”_ he slaps off her hands when she throws them up to try and stop him, puts his foot on the bottom of her chair and slides her across the floor, away from him and laughs at the small squeak she makes when he shoves his freezing toes behind her knees.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Yeah, yeah, face it. You got a lot of your charming personality from watching me.” He smirks over at her and then looks down at the plate of waffles in front of him. It’s nice being able to joke with her but it feels weird. It’s the same things he’d usually do to her but not as mean as he tended to be towards her. It feels like something Billy doesn’t deserve and he’s swallowing through the feeling when someone’s knee bumps his under the table. He snaps his head up and meets Steve’s eyes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Sounds like a lot of fun.” He gives Billy a small smile, takes a sip of coffee then says, “Did Tommy ever tell you about the time his older brother took us fishing and left us?” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Billy scoffs, he’s heard this story ten times and it differed every time._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Yes, but I would like to hear the true story.” It makes Steve laugh and Billy feels like he should be sweating with how warm this is._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	8. He's a wolf screaming lonely in the night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> probbbbbbably double posting tonight
> 
> also the oxygen tank thing is a story my dad told me he did while working as a forklift driver in a factory in Kentucky. His work friends used to meet him on the roof during their break times and get high and destroy shit. He was fired and wasn't arrested on the promise that he pulled all the tanks from the lake they landed in and brought them back

Jim Hopper is a man who likes to think he’s seen some shit-- before he started actually seeing some shit. He’s been through more life endangering situations than he thought he would have since becoming the chief in a small, small town in the middle of bum fuck Indiana. The whole point of going that far into the woods, so far from ‘proper’ civilization was to find some normalcy. To find some complacency, some stability to raise Sara. A place where she could’ve been more herself than Jim or Diane could’ve ever imagined. But dreams are cut short, loving wives become distant exes and children die. It’s cold, it’s cruel, it’s… strange. How a life so pure could bring so much destruction when it ends. 

But stranger things have happened in these woods, way stranger than Jim not being able to work through his emotions, much less balance Diane’s, and grieve with her instead of fighting it on his own. Stranger than the lack of fighting between them, stranger than the complete loss of everything between them-- their passions, their hopes, their future. Stranger than Diane leaving, of Jim actually signing divorce papers to someone he loved more than life itself, of Diane finding someone else and having his children instead. Children that don’t get sick like Sara did. But Jim’s beyond thinking it was his genes, beyond thinking that Sara was taken to make an example out of Jim, beyond trying to find a warning sign that his life would come tumbling down.

So, Hawkins stayed. Hawkins flourished, or rather, Hawkins allowed him to take over. He lost his passion and it turned him bitter. He lost his life and it kept him awake at nights, beer clutched in hand and third-pack-of-the-night cigarette in the other while he stared into absolutely nothing. 

Crazy how a group of kids and a ‘wacky’ mom can turn that right up on its head. He’s always considered his part in this - thing just him doing his job. Just him being Chief of Police in Small Town, USA. Knew, realistically, deep in the recesses of his heart and mind, that he was always going to fight like hell for the kids of his town. Knew it wasn’t him doing his job but him being the man he always was and putting the future before the present. Hated thinking about what that said about him. 

But sitting in the living room of the cabin, that he had to leave behind to ensure Jane’s safety, staring into the eyes of Billy Hargrove has Jim wondering where exactly his blind eye started to who really lived in his town. The kid flinches at the slightest of movements, and sure he’s just escaped from an even worse lab than Jane had been in so there’s definitely some lingering trauma there, but Jim knows. He knows too well how a sudden touch, a sudden noise, a shout, hell it could be anything really, can trigger the kid. He stays on edge just like Billy does, ready to roll with his reactions. But Billy doesn’t lash out, doesn’t get nasty. It’s almost like the Billy Hargrove that Jim had known before - well, before, isn’t even a ghost haunting the body in front of him.

Jim’s heard about Billy’s mean streak, seen first hand what he did to Steve’s face. Has heard stories from Max, but also caught whispers of Max telling Lucas the things Neil would say and do to Billy. Knows that Billy was brought to Hawkins as punishment and as some form of vengeance Billy turned around and attempted to eat Hawkins alive. He made himself practically a household name. Has gotten caught doing some funny shit, Jim would give him that much. The paperwork Billy caused was always the easier papers to get through because it was just so downright absurd that Billy Hargrove had gotten his hands on six oxygen tanks, had set up a ramp at the highest part of the quarry, and was shooting them across the large crater like missiles. Or had taken Louis Hall’s youngest son, Tommy, out to No Man’s Land, got him drunk as shit and left him in a fucked up Marco-Polo game. The list goes on.

Jim knew Hawkins held basically nothing for nightlife, hated cracking down on kids out drinking because of the whining alone. But Billy Hargrove brought a fire with him and Jim was useless in putting the flames out. The boy sitting in front of him looks cold, lifeless. Eyes flicking around the room every thirty seconds, settling on something for another sixty and then flicking onto the next thing. Jim wonders if he’s focusing on objects as if to pull his thoughts together while Steve’s explaining how they got to this point, though he never opens his mouth and says anything. 

Steve let’s Jim explain the situation completely. The constant threat of losing their freedom simply because they knew Billy and what happened to him in the mall. The men that started following the kids, following Max, long before Dominique came to town. Never addressing the kids but always somewhere they were publicly. Sitting in a van a few houses down from the Wheeler’s, Lucas’ father getting strange calls at three in the morning, Dustin’s mom having to buy a security alarm and more outside lights when she saw someone walking through their yard three nights in a row. Billy’s face gets more and more drawn and Jim has this sinking feeling in his gut.

His face finally cracks when Steve gets to the part about being arrested by Dominique. But he still says nothing, pulls in a deep breath and clenches his jaw before nodding along with Steve’s story. 

“I saw that.” Billy says quietly, after Steve mentioned Dominique roughing him up a bit. “Eddwad was the one that allowed me to get free, I guess. He tried to trap me when we got out but, uh, obviously that didn’t work out.” His voice is rough. The comment sounds like it once could’ve been said by someone with the intentions of being cocky but now it just falls flat.

They’re sat together in the living room, having cleaned the cabin enough for them to stay the night and have this discussion now. Dusty couches and dusty chairs. Jim’s sure there’s loads of dust in his mustache. Billy had taken a chair, Max had sat on the couch closest to him, Steve in a chair beside him which left Jane by Max and Hopper in his old recliner that he moved closer to the front window. He wasn’t letting himself dwell on how Jane hung on Billy’s last word, eyes clear and focussed entirely on the boy. Knew she was collecting her own data and comparing without knowing the full details. He wondered if Billy would ever talk to her privately, knew that they didn’t have to talk at all for the other to know they played on the same field. 

“I mean, okay, so I guess we all kinda know what that means, when you say you saw something, but can you just clarify? Were you in my head or had you just appeared like you did that one day in Florida and I didn’t see you?” Steve’s confusion is written all over his face. “I guess if you don’t actually know how to explain it we’d just roll along with it until you could but, like, any kinda insight might help?” 

Billy licks his lips and looks down at his hands, white knuckling over the arms of the chair. He’s breathing a little harshly, no doubt thinking about what led to this moment.

“So, that day in Florida was like- it was like I could close my eyes and heard you calling my name. It was that easy, well not easy. But it wasn’t hard to find you, you led me right to you.” He won’t look up from the floor and Jim can still see him battling with his words. “Once I found you it got kinda tricky. I almost didn’t think I could do it but I started picturing myself in the chair and then- then you just saw me.” He takes a deep breath and it’s like his face turns to steel. “When I sink into it I can either reach out or be led to someone. It’s always me, like, pulling the strings though. If I reach out I can slip into someone’s head and just go from there.

“Everything is open to me. I can look through thoughts, I can take over bodily functions and motions. Being led to someone is more like I can only watch what they’re showing me, either put myself in the scene or watch it from afar, but never manipulate like I can when I reach out.” His eyes flick up to Jane. “I saw you trying to find me a few times.” 

Jim watches Jane tense, nod and relax slightly when Billy nods back. 

“Do you have any idea who was running the lab?” Jim asks, knows Billy is gonna shut him out, ice up and deflect questions. Can see it clear as day on the kid’s face but Max reaches out a socked foot and bumps Billy’s ankle.

“Eddie Dominique said that he’s in control of that building. Told me that I was held in Russia and brought back here to Hawkins when they were ready to start testing whatever they did to me. Implied that the Russians were in control, that he was simply a low level employee with the means they needed to get this kicking off the ground.” 

That sparks a memory for Jim, of sitting in his office facing down Eddie Dominique in close quarters. Hearing him explain their official business was finding William Hargrove, couldn’t confirm nor deny if his body was actually buried or lost, and finding any clues on his whereabouts would be safer for Hawkins than harboring him. 

“He acted like he had no idea where you were in the first place.” Max says. “Neil got purple in the face when he came to the house and accused Neil of giving you an escape. That was a bad night.” She winces, eyes darting to Jim and back. 

Billy blinks at Max, searching her face for a few fast seconds. There’s a pregnant pause before he shrinks back into the chair, iron straight and cold to slouched and miserable. His hair has gotten longer, or maybe it’s just Jim actually paying attention to his features now, but it’s starting to curl on the top of his head. His angled cheeks and nose are in sharp relief to the bags under his eyes and the frown on his face. 

“I don’t know anything about why me or where exactly everything was or any of the people I was around. Wish it wasn’t me and this coulda been over ‘long time ago. Alls I know is I ran for forty five minutes and hit the quarry.” 

“How did you keep track of time?” Max asks, leaning forward and forcing Billy to meet her eyes at the same time that Steve blurts “Wouldn’t be over, even if you had been left behind so cut the shit.” 

“I counted it. Was always good at keeping time, had to be. Like a little timer behind my eyes now.” He smiles, wan, and Max sucks in a breath. He doesn’t even look at Steve and Jim feels the tension in the room, holds his breath in preparation for another screaming match.

He’s thinking of possible abandoned buildings in each direction from the quarry and keeping his eyes between the boys when Billy stands and leaves the room, Max shoots Steve a sour glance and a slight shake of her head when he lifts a hand up then stands to follow. 

“Shit.” Steve whispers as he pinches the ridge of his nose and then knuckles his shut eyes. He stands up and leaves the room as well, going into the kitchen and away from the direction of soft mumblings. 

Jim looks at Jane and breathes in before getting her attention. 

“Well, kid, d’you think you could show him or do we gotta talk it out?” 

“Show him.” She says, decisively. “Have to show him, Jim. Friends don’t lie.” He knows the heat in her eyes isn’t directed at him, knows that she’s over being mad at him for almost dying in the bottom of the mall but she’s still scared about it. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle her ever being in that position again, he’s felt a little grateful to Billy for it but it’s always been a quiet kind of grateful. 

Steve comes back into the room, sweet smelling tea in hand. Jim knows that tea became a thing for Steve around the time that Max started asking him for tea on the roof, just a few weeks into the end times. Max always said that tea was her mom’s way of taking a minute to herself, said Steve should try it. Shortly after that Jim started seeing Steve or Max sneak cups of tea up to the roof multiple times a weekend. They’d stay up there for an hour, two if they felt they needed a couple cups. 

And like a dog with a bone, Max appeared nearly sniffing the air, Billy hot on her tail. They both looked at Steve’s cup and then walked to the kitchen area, Billy elbowing her head to be first. Jane sniggered a laugh, shaking her head in her humor. Jim didn’t know how Max did it, but Billy looks off the edge that he was balancing on precariously. 

“Thought you hated tea.” Billy grumbles out.

“Puh-lease, you were the one that hated tea times.” Max elbows him back, setting the sugar in front of him.

“Your mom still- uh?” Billy looks quickly back into the living room before cutting himself off and focusing instead on pouring the hot water into two mugs for them.

“No, that was… that was a you thing.” Max says, quiet like she’s scared of breaking a moment.

Billy snorts. “No, it wasn’t.” He’s adding a little cream now, Jim can see his fingers shaking as he sets the glass down. “She started drinking tea when dad found the lavender tea bags in my closet.” 

Jim also knows what’s said about Billy. From his father, from Tommy Hall after the funeral, from three college boys that happened upon Hawkins in the dead of winter. Billy might not be so… straight edge, but he’s certainly masculine enough to not have those kinds of rumors flying around a small town. It wasn’t a surprise for Jim. But it did make him worry about Billy, knowing full well Billy could fight his own battles, but also knowing he couldn’t take on a gang if they made one. He can hear his own father’s voice rattling around between his ears, a mantra of ‘he’s too soft to be my boy’. 

He’s brought back to the moment by Steve breathing in deep, holding his tongue no doubt. He catalogs the way Steve is paying attention to Billy without actually looking like he’s paying attention. The fleeting glances, quieting his own breathing to hear everyone else’s, the twitch in his finger and voice when Billy flinches over something that was said. Jim sees it. Knows the things that are said about Steve as well. Knows Steve’s soft, his underbelly always on display with its own razor sharp teeth.

Billy falters outside of the living room, eyes set on Jane and face drawn. Instead of taking his seat between Steve and Max he comes to Jane. 

“What were you trying to say?” He asks, oddly polite and extremely quiet. “You weren’t clear, I wanted to make sure I understood.” Jim’s put on edge by the statement but quickly eased when Jane nods and smiles tightly.

She points to her forehead. “Not so good with words, easier to just show.” Billy nods, waits for her to slip her eyes closed before he sets his mug down and follows her lead. 

Jim’s confused, he can tell Steve and Max are as well, but he’s glad for the quiet. The tension has left Billy completely as he sinks against the couch. It looks like he’s taking a nap, almost, if it weren’t for the shaking of his hands. It’s five minutes of making awkward eye contact with the other two people in the room before Billy jerks and both he and Jane are swiping at their noses. Billy’s eyes flash when he looks at Jim.

“You should’ve told me.” He’s quiet, voice low and calm. Eyes angry but not exuding any kind of aggressiveness. Some sick voice tells Jim it’s cause he’s scared of him, tells him to tread lightly. Billy’s hands are clenching and unclenching over his chest and ribs. 

“Yeah, ‘cause telling the undead kid that just freed himself that his days are numbered by the same other dimensional monsters that killed him in the first place just as soon as he gets home was really a solid plan. Wanted you to at least get a full night’s sleep and we couldn’t even do that.” Jim glances briefly to Steve and then back to Billy. Knows both Steve and Max are gaping.

“The gate is open again?!” Max yells just as Steve bolts from the room and into the kitchen. Jim can see the shudder in his shoulders as he slams his mug in the sink and lights a cigarette. 

“We’ve kept an eye on it.” Jane says, obviously doing her best impersonation of Jim. “Not- not open yet but coming.” She says, frowning down at her hands. It was the worst argument between her and Jim. She wanted to fling herself straight into tracking it down and keeping it from happening at all and he wanted her safe at home. He should’ve known from past’s sake that it wouldn’t ever go down like that. 

“What the fuck, what the actual fuck?” Steve’s got a hysterical tilt to his voice. “Why would you keep sending me away if you knew-” something shatters and Steve sobs, sharp and loud as he pushes out the side door. 

Max stands, takes a step as if she were going to follow before Billy shakes his head and goes slowly after Steve. The cabin is entirely too quiet and Jim knew keeping this to himself would be a mistake. Knew sending Steve off to find a gate that wouldn’t be there in more and more obscure places to keep him from diving off the deep end would bite him in the ass. Jim knew that Hawkins would be home for the gate again, knew as soon as Eddie rolled into town that they needed to get the fuck out. He’s been battling his selfishness, between wanting to keep his family safe and wanting to fight the good fight right alongside them again. But he’s tired of everyone constantly being in danger, talks late at night with Joyce about it because of course he couldn’t keep it from her. 

She didn’t encourage this, wanted to keep all information available for everyone, said they deserve it more than the safety of the dark. But Jim just couldn’t look into their faces and tell them they could die again. Has experienced way too many short endings for good kids. 

Jane’s quick “told you, Jim,” makes his eyes tear up a little before he can pull himself together better. 

“Yeah, kid, you were right.”


	9. In return you gave them hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was heavily influenced by Tears for Fears.
> 
> Billy: wanna play a game  
Billy: *realizes his crush never went away*  
Billy: fuck not that one

Billy honestly has no fucking clue what he’s doing following after Steve. He doesn’t know how to comfort him or calm him. But he had known it would be better for him to come than for Max to. Steve’s facing the trees, one hand limp in the air next to his hip while the other brings his cigarette to and from his face. Billy is a quiet presence, standing on the wooden stairs and watching Steve warily. 

“Y’know, I never thought I would feel comfortable ever calling Hawkins home.” He says it softly, creating a space of ease and calm. Watches Steve’s shoulder hike up before he breathes and they slump slowly. “It’s- I came here and it wasn’t ever some place I could feel homely in. It’s always been something for my dad to rub my face in, a uh, a place where I had to hide.” He doesn’t know why the fuck he’s saying this but Steve is turning to squint at him and Billy runs both hands over his head before walking out to him. 

“We left California and everything just- it just fell apart worse than it already had.” He takes the offered cigarette and doesn’t meet Steve’s eyes. He watches the spiders making their webs in the branches above them. Can see it crystal clear, the spinning web and little body bouncing across the netting already set up. “I get here and everything is so fucking- god it’s so fucking different here. There’s no edge-of-the-knife lifestyle here, it’s bowling on Friday and church on Sunday type shit.” Steve snorts beside him, eyes still blurry with panic but coming back into himself. 

“My dad thought Hawkins was a safe bet. Thought I’d die in Hawkins, and would ya know it, I damn well did.” He scoffs under his breath, hands the cigarette back to Steve and shoves his hands in his jacket pocket. “The gift that keeps on giving, Hawkins is.” 

He can tell that Steve is back in his head, not lost in the panic that settled in. Feels relieved when Steve looks over at him and his brown eyes are focused, feels settled when Steve nods and looks back into the woods.

“Your dad, he uh, he doesn’t like me too much.” Steve’s rubbing at the back of his neck and Billy feels ice cold fear jolt down his spine before Steve laughs and looks back over to him. “He said something smart, I can’t even remember what exactly it was now, but it was at your funeral. I was standing behind Max with the party and I just remember him saying something and Dustin telling me not to do anything and I shoved him like three feet away from Max. He didn’t do anything other than wrinkle my suit and throw some empty threats, don’t look at me like that. My face was still healing from- from the mall.” He’s chuckling at Billy now and it feels so warm to stand here and talk about anything except the important things.

So, naturally, Billy fucks it up. 

“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to save the world again.” Steve stills, going violently still, next to him and the ground is so much more interesting to look at than the emotions flooding Steve’s face, Billy doesn’t think he could stand to see where Steve settles. 

“No one said that you’d be doing it alone.” Steve is so quiet when he says it that Billy almost shatters it on purpose. 

“Didn’t really have that choice the first time, Harrington.” Billy feels the buzz under his skin, knows he’s on the tipping point himself when Steve’s hand comes up slowly, just on the edge of his vision. Giving him time to pull away, but he doesn’t, holds still until Steve’s palm is warm over his shoulder and squeezes gently.

“I can’t make any definite promises here, especially with this, but I swear to you that you won’t do any of this alone.” He squeezes again. “I know, I know that it’s- I know what it’s like. Everyone we’re going to be around knows what it’s like. There’s not a single person, except maybe Murray, that can’t relate. It might not be easy to open up, but you don’t have to with us. We know. Maybe too well, but we know.” 

Billy doesn’t exactly know what to say to that. So he stays quiet, let’s the words wash over him. Feels like maybe Steve might be right, with Jane in the cabin waiting for their next steps, memories of Max swinging around a nail riddled bat. 

“We have a lot of talking to do still, do you wanna head back in? It’s getting almost too cold, even in the sun.” 

So he nods, follows Steve inside and Max has new tea waiting for them, warm to the touch and sweet like Billy loves. Settles into the chair next to Steve and turns his eyes onto Hopper. 

“There’s a lot of things I know we have to talk about. I know you want every detail from every second of my life undead but there’s a few questions I need to ask first.” At Hopper’s nod he breathes in deep. “Wherever you’re hiding out now, it’s safe?” 

“It’s marked abandoned, in another state and partially underground. It’s the safest place we have right now.” Hopper leans forward, taps out a cigarette then points it at Billy. “You’re positive no one is tracking you? They didn’t put any chips in you or anything?” 

Billy shakes his head. “If they did I must’ve been knocked out. I haven’t felt anything under my skin, you’re welcome to check though.” He stands, reaches behind his head to pull his sweater and shirt off in one fluid motion. 

Max’s gasp sounds wet, Jane blinks twice then she looks anywhere but at him, Steve’s wide eyes can’t unglue themselves from his torso and Hopper looks faintly nauseous. Billy takes his fingers from the hairline on his neck to his shoulders, prodding the skin none to gently, searching. He turns his back to Hopper and starts checking his arms. When they’re both satisfied that he’s not harboring any location devices under his skin they both sit down.

“Jesus, Billy-” Max’s voice is wet and Billy knows if he were to look at her he’d see the tears tracking her cheeks. Instead he looks at his clothes as he puts them back on.

“Don’t start, Maxine, this is not the time.” He’s not harsh, in the way he says it, but he is firm. “Second question, is she safe in Hawkins?” He points his thumb at Max but only makes eye contact with Hopper.

“Yes. My deputies Callahan and Powell have, in a sense, gone rogue for me. They know nothing of the situation but can keep their mouths shut. I can trust them and so can you. Things might be different now with you running around but there are contingency plans we can go over later with everyone else.” Steve nods, as if to back up the plans made and Billy can feel himself relax slightly.

“Okay.” Billy won’t admit to the desperate thrumming in his chest, but he’s anxious as all fuck and he doesn’t know how to talk about being held prisoner and experimented on without losing his cool exterior. “Okay.” 

Hopper seems to understand that Billy isn’t going to dive into it on his own, that he needs a push in the right direction. So Hopper lights his cigarette and stares him down. The look is calming, his blue eyes clear and a little droopy.

“What’s the first thing you remember?” 

It flashes across his vision and he’s shaking in seconds from the cold of it.

“A metal table, uh, straps around my wrists and ankles. Lots of Russian talking above me, ten or so people hovering around. When they noticed I was awake they put me back under. Then my cell. The green tile. It made me sick to my stomach at first. It was like, too good of a color for what I always felt.” Billy swallowed. “They would like, inject me with something and hook me up to machines to test me. I think they had some kind of projection thing set up to see into my head, they always knew when I was reaching outside. When, uh, when I made contact with Steve they had me hooked up for three days. That’s how they got that picture, I’m guessing.” 

Billy glanced over in time to see Steve swallow thickly. Knew how much of a panic that set off.

“So someone saw us every time you reached out? Are we compromised?” Hopper asked, intent but not angry.

“I don’t think? I never saw anyone in a group, just Steve and Jane. Saw like, uh, pieces of moments but never like locations or times. Steve and Jane were the easiest to find when I got into it, like a waiting phone call that you can’t figure out if it’s line one or two.” Billy nods once before continuing on. “I didn’t know what day it was until yesterday when I pushed into Eddie’s head.” 

“Okay. Okay, so, they what? Beat you into submission?” Steve asks, voice low but Billy can hear the slight panic behind it.

“More like shot me up with some more of whatever they used and pit me against those hell monsters. The guards were the only ones to beat me and that was usually only when I fucked with them. If I didn’t kill the monsters I was put in the electric chair and they pulled shit from my head. Used Max against me to make me cave in my psycho shock therapy sessions.” He doesn’t want to admit that it was mostly Steve that they threatened to break Billy with, doesn’t want the questions and doesn’t think he’d like to explain the answers. 

“Fuck,” Steve whispers, hand going up to rub across his mouth while panic and pain flared in his eyes. 

Hopper leans forward, elbows resting on his knees while dragging slowly off his smoke. His eyes are swimming with the questions floating in his brain and Billy mentally prepares. 

“So they had the gate open enough to keep dragging those things in or what?” 

“I think they were like Frankenstein-ing it. Sometimes it’d be powerful and able to go a few rounds and sometimes it’d be so weak it could barely crawl across the floor to get me. I think, I didn’t realize until now, but I think the gate was opened last night.” The room fills with a sickening tension and Billy continues before any questions can be flung his way. “Eddie visited me, that should’ve been my first warning because the entire time I was there I never saw another American. 

“The building went into shut down, those things were running around on all levels, had to kill quite a few of ‘em on my way out. I didn’t think much of Eddie, honestly. Another mistake.” He glances over at Steve to give him a look like ‘see, I told you’ but finds Steve pale and staring intently at Hopper. “The halls smelled like death and rot and had these black veins creeping along the walls and floors. It would’ve been gross if I hadn’t have been so-” Billy cuts himself off, blunt nails gripping into the sides of his thighs as he breathes through the feeling of fear. 

“If we went back to the quarry, to the exact spot Steve found you, could you know the direction you came from?” Hopper asks, voice giving nothing away and Billy is teetering on the edge of being so ashamed he didn’t do anything more and being so angry that he might have been expected to save the world without knowing last night. 

But he thinks, he thinks and he pulls the spot from the quarry from his mind. Closes his eyes and sinks, lets himself see the trees around him and feel the rock ledge under him. He blinks back into reality and croaks out a “yes.” 

The first part of their plan is set. No more talking, conversation was never Hopper’s skilled spot. They’re all ready for some kind of action but there’s the question of Jane and Max. There’s the question of all the people waiting for them in Illinois. It’s a Sunday so eventually the kids are going to need to come home, parents thinking they’re on a weekend vacation in some dungeon that their dragons are fighting. So Hopper suggests that Steve and Billy stay put, he’ll take Max and Jane back to Joyce and bring the adults back with him after the kids are home safe. 

It strikes Billy strange, seeing Max getting ready to go to a home that he’s no longer part of. He doesn’t cry when she gives him a rough hug goodbye, doesn’t feel hollow or empty until he can feel her energy dissipate from the growing distance. Then thinks about that being something they’re going to have to test before it’s too late. So he looks at Steve, keeps his face blank and tries to break the tension.

“Wanna play a game?” 

It shocks a grin out of Steve, almost like he couldn’t help but smile at the absurdness of the question.

“What’d you have in mind?” 

“Walk fifteen feet away from the cabin while I sit right here.” And Steve sputters at that, a quick ‘what’ leaving his mouth before Billy speaks up again. “I wanna test my boundaries. I can feel your energy sitting right there and I wanna know how far away you can get before I lose you. Might come in handy, Harrington, what else did you have planned?” 

So Steve agrees and puts his shoes on, grabs another coat then stops before he opens the door.

“Uh, we don’t have another walkie.” He says, looking around like one might appear in the mess around the sides of the room.

“What does the walkie have to do with anything?” Billy asks calmly.

“Look, I know you could like, just talk into my head, but all things considered that kinda freaks me out and we have to be able to check in with this, cause I won’t know when to stop and if I’m out of reac-”

“Okay, Harrington, calm down. I’ll reach out to the walkie.” Billy steps over and puts his hand out for Steve to give him the thing. Once he does, Billy turns it on and changes the frequencies to the loudest white noise he can find. “There. Now, get to steppin’.” He opens the door for Steve and raises his eyebrows at the pink color flooding the tips of Steve’s ears. 

When Steve’s out the door Billy sits back in the chair and shuts his eyes. He doesn’t reach out for Steve as much as he just follows his energy. It’s warm, warmer than the sun in California and Billy lets himself revel in it for a few seconds. 

“Fifteen feet,” he hears, like an echo. Like Steve is in another room and his words are muffled by the walls. Like he’s underwater. 

“Take another fifteen.” Billy says and huffs a laugh at the way Steve jerks the hand holding the walkie, almost like he forgot that Billy would be coming in through the white noise. 

Steve almost makes it four miles away from the cabin and Billy can’t seem to lose him. He can feel Steve’s energy as if he were still sitting beside him and it irks him. Max and Jane and Hopper all disappeared almost as soon as they hit the main paved road from the cabin. But Steve’s halfway to bum fuck Egypt and still coming in clear as a bell. He’s itchy, like his frustrations are bugs crawling on his skin and biting him when he’s not looking. Feels cranky and worn down, exhausted in the worst way.

“Okay, Harrington, come back.” He knows his frustration is evident in his voice, knows that Steve probably thinks they’re going to argue again by the time he’s back in the cabin but Billy won’t let himself get to that point again. 

He’s waiting on the front steps with a cigarette in his mouth when Steve steps through the underbrush and it’s like his body is sighing in relief. It feels so strange, moments before he was tired and bitchy and now he looks up and gives Steve a small smile. Feels everything fall away and put itself back into place. He feels refreshed. 

He’s about to freak the fuck out.


	10. The fire in your eyes keeps me alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve has two panic attacks. One that Billy guides him through and one alone in the bathroom. He throws up, there's some suicidal ideation and some depersonalization so please read with care. The bathroom panic attack starts at "He hides the van...." 
> 
> I will be moving this weekend so I'm going to try and update as much as possible since updates will possibly be scarce the next few weeks.
> 
> also I can't stop listening to She Sells Sanctuary by The Cult and thinking of these boys.

Steve often questioned himself. Often felt confused and unsure of his surroundings. That didn’t necessarily put him off from making decisions or taking action first and thinking of possible consequences later. He was used to living like a fool, making foolish decisions and dealing with the sometimes unbearable endings. He didn’t know what he did to set Billy so on edge. They had sat on the front steps together for a total of three minutes before Billy flicked his cigarette butt out into the woods and went inside without saying a single word. 

They didn’t talk about any other possible tests they should do on Billy’s powers, didn’t make any plans or guesses on how the building Billy escaped from would look if they even found it. Billy just walked off, eyes downcast and face a little flush. Steve knew he needed sleep, knew Billy needed it more than anyone else he knew. He assumed Billy would’ve gone and laid down but when he entered the cabin he heard a low humming, listened carefully between the humming and the kitchen sink running and realized it was Springsteen. Something that Steve would never in a million years assume that Billy enjoyed and his deep voice was so smooth, he gave himself a few seconds to listen without intruding. Thought it was a little ironic that Billy would be humming Born in the USA, couldn’t help the little huff of a laugh that pushed past his lips.

Billy stopped, abrupt, and turned to look at Steve with a raised eyebrow and a ‘say something and I kill you’ look on his face. It endeared Steve instead of annoying him like it would’ve before. He smiled to himself as he took in Billy making a new pot of hot water for tea. It felt peaceful, in the cabin watching snow flurries outside and waiting for a fresh, warm cup to warm his hands. 

“So, that, uh, that picture.” Billy starts, his shoulders a tense line under the blue sweater he’s wearing. Steve almost regrets opening his mouth in the first place but he knows that the picture is still burning a hole in Billy’s sweater pocket. 

“From your dream, yeah.” 

“Did you make that dream or did you just appear in it?” He feels kinda stupid, as if Billy could influence his dreams. But still unsure, Billy seems to be able to pull quite a few strings inside people’s heads and he wouldn’t want to discredit him if his hunch is right.

Billy stops and looks over at him. “You think I wanted to see that? It wasn’t the first time you dreamt about digging me up, Harrington. I got sick of it, I had to get you out of there.” He sounds gruff but Steve knows that he’s on the edge of some kind of panic. Can read in between Billy’s lines and sees the fear blossoming in his eyes.

“Okay, sorry. I just, uh, just wanted to make sure.” 

“Harrington, if I were gonna fuck with your dreams I’d have a helluva lot more fun than that shit.” He winks as he turns to grab the sugar and cream. 

Steve snorts, can’t help the small laughs that Billy keeps dragging out of him. It’s strange, that Billy can make him feel so human when not even Nancy knew the right words to say to him. Nancy and Steve spent a lot of time saying nothing and everything at the same time. She’d call bullshit when Steve would deflect and it would cause more arguments than conversations. They’ve been on the outs since before Robin even joined Steve’s travels. He can be around her and Jonathan no problem, make quick quips that get them laughing but it never goes beyond friendly politeness. Doesn’t think he can open himself up to anyone like that again, not after so many people made it clear that Steve is so replaceable. 

“My head is a nightmare and you’re not allowed to try and fix it.” Steve mumbles, rubbing his eyes and chasing the black dots that scatter across his vision. 

Billy lifts both hands in the air, his back to Steve while he prepares his mug. “Never offered, amigo. But, I’d help you sleep if you ever needed it.” It’s quiet, so unlike Billy to offer such a kindness that Steve feels off kilter. Like everything keeps sliding to the left once he finally gets it back into frame. 

“Thanks, man. I uh, appreciate it.”

“Literally never fucking mention it.” Billy winks over his shoulder and it startles Steve, the force of his laugh. It looks like it startles Billy, as well, because Steve sees his cheeks go pink before he gives a small, happy smile and turns back to his mug. 

They don’t talk too much after that, sitting in the living room in the bright light that shines through, sipping their tea and watching the snow starting to clump on the ground. It’s peaceful, almost awkwardly so but Steve doesn’t feel like he has to fill the silence, doesn’t feel the pressure of having to entertain Billy weighing on his shoulders.

Eventually Billy stands, groans as he stretches his hands above his head and heads back to the kitchen. There’s soft sounds flowing through the rooms and Steve closes his eyes and leans his head back. 

“What kind of food do we have in there?” He asks, not moving a muscle to turn around at Billy’s scoff.

“Absolutely nothing except three frozen waffles, a thing of peanuts and some strawberry jam.” 

“I was hoping you would say like, fuckin’, burgers or something.” 

“Burgers sound so good.” Steve opens his eyes at the open want in Billy’s voice, remembers that Billy probably hasn’t been eating the best foods, and makes his mind up right there.

“Okay, get those shoes on. We’re getting some food.” He smirks at Billy’s wide eyes and thinks about how he’s going to pull this off without Hopper knowing they left the cabin for an hour. 

Steve puts a hat on over his hair, pulls out his glasses from his duffel and switches the license plates while Billy’s still in the cabin. He’s crossing his fingers and praying to whoever the fuck is up in the sky to get them through this day without any problems. At least until tonight. Thinking of Nancy and Billy in the same room gives him heart palpitations but he thinks they’ll make it out alright once the questions are over.

It’s mid-afternoon, Steve is behind the wheel in the van and Billy has ducked down into the back, sitting on the large tool box behind the passenger seat. Visible enough that Steve can look in the mirror and make eye contact while they talk but not enough that the drive thru people can see him. He gets Billy a quarter pounder with extra cheese, fries and a chocolate shake.

“Harrington, I could fuckin’ kiss you.” Billy says as Steve parks in an abandoned lot, business windows filled with cardboard and signs that tell him they regret any inconveniences while they do construction inside. Billy moans around a mouthful and it shocks Steve to his very core.

Steve has a momentary panic, knows he should throw out a “please don’t” kind of joke. Can’t bring himself to choke the words out. Can’t think about what it means that he’s thinking about Billy fucking Hargrove kissing him over some fucking burgers and fries. Doesn’t want the slap in the face reminder that that isn’t something guys do to each other, doesn’t want Billy to actually hit him in the face for assuming he’d actually kiss him. 

“That good, huh?” Is what he says instead, something safer than talking about kisses or lies about sexuality. 

“So good. Harrington, what the fuck do they actually put in this shit to make it so good?” His mouth is full and it’s kinda gross but his eyes are bright and he looks genuinely alive for the first time since Steve’s found him. But that was always Billy in a nutshell, kinda gross and still the prettiest fucking picture. 

Steve is still in the driver’s seat and Billy is still hiding behind the passenger seat and it’s the distance that Steve thinks saves him the most from embarrassing himself. Feels like he’s stuck in some Twilight Zone-esque movie, one where nothing actually goes wrong and he can enjoy a burger without feeling like someone’s watching over his shoulder. He’s glancing out the window, watching the next lot over fill up with cars and empty when he loses his appetite completely. 

Neil Hargrove is standing outside his truck, eyes set on the van and on Steve. He thought wearing the hat and glasses would at least cover his face enough to be around in Hawkins during the day but obviously he’d fucked up thinking that because Neil throws his cigarette down and starts walking towards the van. 

“Okay, don’t panic but your dad saw me and he’s heading this way. So, I guess, uh, I guess I’m just gonna get out and talk to him? Don’t let him fucking see you.” Steve doesn’t wait to hear anything other than Billy choke on his mouthful before he’s throwing the door open and stepping out, cupping his hand to his mouth to light a cigarette, slamming the door behind him and walking to meet Neil ten feet from the van.

“Can I help you, Mr. Hargrove?” He keeps any anxiousness from his voice, tries to sound friendly even.

“You know where my boy is?” Neil’s eyes, the same as Billy’s but colder, narrow down on Steve’s appearance. He crosses his arms over his chest, surely trying to look threatening but the yellow bruise around his eye and the purple blooming along the side of his jaw tell Steve he’s not looking to fight any more, that he’d already scratched that itch. 

“You and I both know the answer to that, sir. We were both there when they lowered him into the ground. Is there something you’re actually looking for?” Steve feels too warm to be standing outside right now, feels the warmth along his neck and shoulders and wishes he could turn to the van. Knows Billy’s using his powers to see without actually being there to see. Welcomes and kind of back up he could get to maneuver this conversation. 

“Steven, right?” Neil grounds out. “Harrington’s boy.” 

“And my father has exactly what to do with this?” Steve looks at the man, up and down. He looks ill, looks sickly and pale. Feels the need to comment on it but holds his tongue, revels in the warmth that’s sliding down his spine and waits him out.

“I know Maxine trusts you an awful lot, so I’d like to be able to say I could too. If you hear anything about my boy, I trust you’ll let me know before anyone else, right?” 

Steve stops, he knows he needs to respond immediately to not raise any suspicions. This could be a trap itself. But Steve can’t bring himself to think of a sentence, much less three words he could string together.

“You got it, sir.” He says, somehow not sounding at all like his voice and entirely him at the same time. Knows that Billy used him to speak, feels nauseous about the prospect of Billy in his head right now. Alarms going off loudly while he watches Neil watch him.

Neil nods curtly, looks at the van once more and then bids Steve goodbye. The warmth is gone as soon as Neil makes it to his truck. Steve slams the door behind him when he gets back into the van then wheels around and punches Billy in the arm, hard. Makes it look like he’s trying to get something from the back, then slaps him on the exact spot he’d just hit.

“Thought I fuckin’ told you that you being in my head freaks me out?” He knows his voice is cracking every few words, that panic is all over his face and eyes but Billy looks more wrecked than Steve feels.

“Sorry. I, uh, I don’t have any excuses. I just… just had to.” Billy’s eyes are wide, he’s looking just to the right of Steve. “How’d you know?” He blinks, looks at Steve then turns his head down to his milkshake.

“I felt it, what do you mean?” Steve adjust his sweater, starts the van and peels away before anyone else can see him sitting there, apparently just talking to himself.

“You felt it?” He sounds like the floor just opened up under him and he’s free falling through it. 

“What’s with both Hargroves asking me stupid fucking questions today? Okay, I just told you-”

“I know what you just said, Harrington, but any fucking time I’ve done that to someone other than Jim Hopper no one has noticed it.” 

Steve presses his lips together and focuses on getting back to the cabin. He doesn’t know what to say to Billy, doesn’t fucking know how his mind magic shit works in the first place. He’s still confused on what the fuck Neil Hargrove was on about, knowing damn well they’ve kept their eyes and ears to the ground on all things Billy Hargrove until this point. Steve was basically duck taped shut whenever he would try to relate any of the odd happenings back to Billy, they never outright addressed the possibility but let Steve keep it on the table, maybe for his own sanity or maybe because they thought he could be right he’ll never know. He’s keeping his eyes out on the cars around them too, making sure no one is following him. Making sure that Neil didn’t trap them, didn’t give the blackcoats the description of the van or the direction they were headed. 

He’s halfway to full blown panic by the time Billy speaks again.

“Harrington?” He’s quiet, voice low and forcefully calm. It jolts Steve the rest of the way, panicking hard and breathing harshly even to his own ears. “Steve.” Billy says, moving from the back and up to the passenger seat as they get more into the woods. “Pull over, please. Can you do that, Steve? Just slow down and pull over.” 

Steve forces his body to function, hitting the brakes harder than he intended but thankful that Billy gave him the choice to do it on his own and not just slip right back into his head and force him. Once he’s put the van in park, Billy reaches over and tilts his chin towards him.

“Follow my breathing, okay?” He guides Steve in, holds for ten seconds and then releases. Does it a few times before he starts cutting the holding times and Steve feels himself coming back into his skin. Can look into Billy’s eyes and not feel like he’s running from everything that goes bump in the night. Billy’s fingers are still holding onto his chin, and it’s more grounding than Steve wants to admit. 

“There you are.” He says, quieter than Steve knew he could be, withdrawls his fingers and keeps his breathing measured and even. 

“That- that was..” Steve jerks his head to check his mirrors, his surroundings. Counts off five things he sees that are blue, five green things and seven brown things. Feels the buzzing in his head quiet down. “I don’t fucking- Shit. Billy please- I can’t-”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m so sorry. Steve, I won’t-”

“Not, not that. Well. That and. Your dad, he’s gotta- he’s gotta know. Something, not where you are but something.”

“Let’s just get back to the cabin and talk okay? I’m not shutting you up, don’t worry, just keep breathing and get us back to the cabin.” 

They make it to the cabin by the skin of their teeth. Steve can tell that Billy is putting his fears away to help Steve through his but that’s not at all what he wants. What he wants is to be able to talk about the real life situation that they’re in without freaking out about it. What he wants is for Billy to put his fingers back on his chin and-

He hides the van and practically flees into the house, hears Billy calling behind him as he blows through the living room and into the bathroom. He’s pushing the toilet lid up right as his mouth is opening and everything he’s eaten in the past two days is spilling into the bowl. He feels seen, like the person he’s been the last year and few months was never real. The comment about his dad has him gagging into the bowl again, saliva stringing from his lips. He feels disgusting in his own skin, the casual reminder that Billy could just take over whenever he wanted to has him reeling. He feels like he should’ve let the Russians complete their torture, should’ve let the demodogs carry him away down that tunnel. Starts thinking his dad was right about so many more things than just Steve being an absolute fucking idiot. 

He used to sit in his room as a kid and listen to them argue about which slut he was fucking that week that wasn’t his mom. Used to hear his dad talk about what a mistake it was to have kept the house in Hawkins when they could be raising Steve in New York. He flushes those thoughts away with the bile and turns the tap on in the sink to attempt to rinse his mouth out. He mostly gets the front of his sweater wet. He falls onto his ass on the floor in front of the sink and shoves his hands into his hair roughly, pulls at the roots until the white pinpricks of pain make him gasp.

He can’t stop thinking about how fucking stupid he is. He couldn’t get into college, Nancy never loved him, Tommy and Carol and literally every fucking person in school dropped him like he was nothing as soon as Billy rolled into town, fuck not even Billy liked him. Steve has lived through, faced down, life ending situation after life ending situation. But he’s so fucking weak, crying and panting into the bathroom floor of a dirty ass cabin in bum fuck nowhere Indiana. 

He doesn’t know how long he spends like that, blankly staring at where the wall meets the floor. He can’t hear anything over the running water in the sink but he assumes Billy is still in the cabin. The shame swallows him so wholly that he can’t find an ounce of courage to pick himself off the floor to face Billy. He knows there’s shit they have to talk about, a clearer boundary that Steve must set, but it seems too emotional, seems too real for him right now.

Eventually the water stops running. It scares Steve, but he doesn’t do more than huff a breath out. He can hear Billy walking slowly but purposefully down the hallway. He rolls his eyes at the gesture, knows Billy is trying to be considerate but it’s still too much energy for Steve to focus on. He rolls himself away from the door and waits until he sees the socked feet standing in front of the door.

“It’s unlocked,” he mumbles out, voice shot. 

He knows he looks like an absolute trash pile, hair fucked and face a mess from sobbing around puke. He knows but he doesn’t care. Knows that Billy could take this and really fuck with Steve, but he can’t find the single fuck he was holding onto desperately. Smiles meanly when Billy opens the door and whistles low.

“Damn, Steve.” He sighs, rubs a hand over his head and then crouches. “Should’ve let me help you, man.” He’s looking Steve all over, taking in each minute detail and moving onto the next. “Can you stand? I’ll get you to the room, somewhere more comfortable, somewhere warmer?” 

It sounds so nice so Steve nods, waits for Billy to stand back up and put both his hands down for Steve to grab onto. 

“Y’don’t gotta like, babysit me.” He sounds awful, like the cat Tommy threw into the river that chased them for almost a mile. 

“Nah, c’mon man, I’m not.” Billy throws one of Steve’s arms around his shoulder and grabs its wrist before putting his arm around Steve’s hips. They take slow, measured steps to the room around the corner of the bathroom while Steve tries not to think too much about how warm Billy is where their bodies meet. The sheets are pulled back and a pile of blankets is waiting for them. A steaming cup of tea on each bedside table. 

“There’s a joke here,” Steve says, flopping his wrist at the scene before them. “Like, if you wanted to get me into bed or something er other.” 

Billy gives him a wan smile, winks at Steve when he hands him the mug, because he’s a little shit and Steve almost absolutely doesn’t hate it, then sits on the other side of Steve. 

“Yeah, well, I figured grand gestures would be the best way to woo you this time.” 

“M’so tired, could sleep for years.” He’s got his head leaning over the headboard and resting against the wall at an awkward angle that he’s going to regret in twenty minutes. 

“Take a nap, big guy. We can talk when you wake up. Got plenty of time before Hopper and everyone else comes. I can leave, if you want?” He sounds so hesitant, like he’s really trying to figure out what Steve wants and needs to hear.

“Stay.” Steve says, putting his mug down and sliding under the blankets. Turns over onto his stomach, one arm sliding up under the pillow and he blinks up at Billy. “Wake me up if I start screaming.” 

Billy’s short snort is the last thing Steve hears before he’s blacked out to the world. He wakes up and indefinite amount of time later to soft snores in his ear, too warm around his knees and ribs. He blinks his eyes open and is met with the back of Billy’s head. Realizes too soon that his arms are wrapped around the other man, one arm under his head and the other possessively curled around Billy’s chest. 

He doesn’t panic, doesn’t do a damn thing, just closes his eyes and tells himself it’s a dream and he’ll wake up in another ten minutes. 

Nancy is the next person he sees when he wakes up again. The bed is empty except for him and it startles him so much that she gets a face full of blanket. 

“What the fuck?” 

“Billy said you had a long day, he was waiting out front for us when we got here.” Nancy says, Steve’s a little worried about her calling Billy by his name, without any mean tones or loaded questions following. 

“Okay, wait, you already talked to Billy? Without me? You let me sleep while you had serious end times conversations?” He can tell he’s pouting, hair probably standing straight up. It’s dark outside the window and he can hear soft voices talking in the living room. Instead of waiting for Nancy’s answer he walks down the hall and into the living room, waits until Billy makes eye contact with him and nods to acknowledge him while he’s deep in discussion with Hopper in the corner. It’s only then that he relaxes and turns back to meet Nancy’s curious expression.

“Can we go outside?” Steve asks her, knows the look in her eyes all too well. 

They’re sitting on the steps outside of the side door from the kitchen, sharing a cigarette and a cup of coffee. Nancy loves the gourmet shit, the kind you can only get from driving into the city and going to the local grown food shops. Steve’s gotta give it to her, this is the best coffee he’s had in months. It was a competition that started as a joke between them- who could find the better coffee from wherever they went. Nancy usually won. Steve purposefully looked for the worst coffee a few times, it made Robin laugh. 

“So why was Billy Hargrove in your bed?” She asks, innocently like she’s asking what time Steve was planning on coming over for dinner. 

He chokes on his mouthful of coffee and yelps when he spits it out. 

“Jesus, Nance, you can’t just drop shit like that on me. He wasn’t in my bed.” He’s wiping his hands on his jeans and not looking at her, thankful for the distraction even if it did burn his tongue and thigh.

“You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.” She smiles, like she knows what he’s thinking and she probably fucking does. 

“I had a bad one today, like a level ten million bad one. He just… picked my pieces up and made sure I didn’t shatter again, s’all.” 

She has that soft look on her face, the one that confirms that she’s focused on Steve and not Billy anymore, knows he played his cards right. Starts to wonder when he started thinking conversations with Nancy were like minefields. 

“Was it about the end times? Or the Upside Down again?” 

“No, uh, no. It wasn’t about that entirely.” She gives a soft nod, grabs his hand and squeezes once before dropping it. 

“Just, even if it’s Billy, talk to someone, please?” She blinks at him, must see something in his face because she’s grinning and going “I knew it” before jumping up and yelling into the house that Jonathan owes her twenty bucks.

“What the fuck, Nance?” He wants to be mad, so desperately wants to be mad, but Nancy has never bet against him before and he’s kinda amused about it. 

“I’ll explain later, okay? Right now we’re going to feed you. Because we brought all the leftovers and I made sure there was plenty of mac and cheese casserole left for you.”

“You’re a goddess doing goddess’ work, Nancy Wheeler.”

“And don’t you forget it!”


	11. If you wanna find hell with me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay I KNOW that Danzig didn't release Mother until '88 but honestly it gives me such Billy vibes I couldn't help myself.
> 
> this will be the last update until I'm stable in my new place, might be a few weeks before we meet again friends so I tried to give you something good.

Nancy Wheeler was a force to be reckoned with, Billy thought. Joyce and Jonathan had tentatively greeted him, a wave and a small ‘hello, honey’ thrown his way. Still kinder than he had assumed they would be. But Nancy had no qualms gutting him in front of the group with her questions on his intentions of coming back to Hawkins, what was he looking for, did he actually need their help or was this a trick, what happened to Steve and why wasn’t he sitting with Billy. She acted like he knew what the fuck was going to happen to him by the end of whatever this was. It would’ve pissed him off if he had actually cared, if he wasn’t asking himself much of the same questions. The highschool antics of getting under her skin with innuendos didn’t settle well in his mouth so he swallowed them instead, gave blase answers to her questions and nodded at Hopper to follow him inside. 

Joyce sent Jonathan into the kitchen to warm up the food they were bringing in and Nancy crept down the hall as Hopper lit a cigarette and looked down at him warily.

“Alright, so, we did something stupid.” He can admit it, has lived with Neil long enough to know when someone needs to know about a fuck up, knows how strange this situation is in the first place. 

“Of fucking course.” Hopper mutters, cigarette bouncing on his lip. “Leave two boys who are one, being watched by the fucking government and two, should be dead, alone and I shouldn’t be surprised.” He looks up to the ceiling then back to Billy. “How bad is it, this time? Did you ice your hands, at least? Knock him out, that why he’s taking a nap?” Hopper’s getting more and more into Billy’s space and it’s forcing Billy to shrink lower and lower against the wall at his back.

“Wait- wait, I didn’t fucking hit him.” Billy knows his voice has gone sharp, his eyes are iced over and if looks could kill, Hopper would’ve dropped dead. “Jesus, fuck, I didn’t hit him goddamn it.” 

“Wouldn’t have been that surprising if you had. In fact, I think I’m more surprised you didn’t.”

Billy immediately snaps his mouth shut, eyes to the floor. “Sorry, sir.” 

He won’t make eye contact, no matter how hard Hopper tries. Can’t look into the face of the man who could actually turn Billy’s word upside down once again. He’s got his shoulders digging painfully into the cold wood panelling behind him, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Hopper takes a deep breath in, eyes too wide, before he puts his cigarette out and turns back to Billy.

“Didn’t mean to bowl you over. What happened, Billy?” 

Billy’s fidgety when he looks around the room before settling on looking over Hopper’s shoulder. His eyes dart to the hall and he nods, once, before returning to their spot over the larger man’s shoulder. 

“We left. Uh, we left the cabin and went to town. My dad saw Steve, only Steve, and uh, I guess wanted information about me. So there’s probably something going on there.” He hated feeling like this. Feeling on the knife’s edge between panic and rage. Having to control himself down to the very essence of the feeling just to ensure that he wasn’t going to spiral out of control, or worse that he wasn’t going to enable Neil’s spirals as well. 

Hopper’s silent for a few long seconds, watching Billy’s face twitch and smooth back out. Billy knows he does it a few times, he’ll furrow his brow or pull his lips down into a frown, just to immediately wipe his face clean as soon as it happens. Hairline triggers that Neil always picked up on. 

“Okay, kid. I’m gonna make a quick call and then we’re going to eat. Make a plan on how to go about this shit tonight.” Hopper nods once, raises his hand slowly to Billy’s shoulder and squeezes it tight once. 

Joyce steps over to him once Hopper strolls outside.

“How are you hanging in there, Billy?” Her voice is smooth like melted chocolate and Billy finds himself relaxing into it. Her gaze is sharp but not in a menacing way. Almost feels like how his own mother used to look at him.

“Ah, you know, coming back from the dead really does have its perks.” They share a watery smile before she rubs his arms, pulls him from the wall a little and points him to the kitchen. 

“Go make your plate and sit down. You look like the wind could knock you over, we’ll test that theory later.” 

It makes him laugh, the mischievous look in her eyes as she says it and the warm tone of it all just completely undoing him. It’s warm, here, in this cabin with these people he never would’ve thought could fit into his life like this. Never thought his life would be like this, can’t bring himself to dwell on it too much when Steve looks across the table to him with a large smile on his face and a sparkle in his eye. 

Billy doesn’t have to say anything to keep the conversation going and he enjoys that. Let’s it wash over him, warm him from it’s familiarity. No one is yelling, pushing tables over or bitching about food. It’s the warmest dinner he’s had since before they left California. Since before his mom. Joyce is an average cook, Billy can tell which dishes she made based on taste alone. Slightly under salted and little too firm. He kinda loves it.

Steve’s animated when he talks, wrist flopping and pointing his fork. Billy can’t bring himself to focus on what’s being said but Steve’s got the point of his tongue sticking between his teeth in a smile while listening to something Nancy is saying. He’s quick to throw his head back in a laugh, roll his eyes, smile warmly at a memory. He’s so emotive, Billy doesn’t know how he hasn’t paid attention to it before. When they were in school, Steve was sullen. He looked sleep deprived and off footed. Hell, even at their graduation Steve looked worse for wear. But here he looks content. Happy in the best way and free to give his warmth out to everyone in the room. 

It’s a little too much for Billy to witness so he quietly excuses himself from the table, clears his plate off then heads for the small bathroom. He doesn’t know how long he spends standing at the sink and watching the water flow over his too pale hands, blue veins standing in sharp relief over the tops of his hands and knuckles, thin fingers spreading and closing like a bad twitch. It irks him that he can’t seem to keep up with time anymore. Time was something he wasn’t allowed to lose, he had to stay prompt or there would be consequences. Living with a military man meant that respect and responsibility were top priorities and you couldn’t make a single mistake without it fucking your family’s reputation up. Billy was all too well acquainted with the concepts. Had his face shoved in the dirt for it, time and time and time again. 

He knew to keep his shoulders and back straight to tower over people, the same way his father did to him, to keep the power balanced. Knew as soon as he drove into Hawkins that he would have to make himself King, had to create this persona of someone who was powerful, had to make himself larger than life or his dad would see exactly who he was and that was never a fucking option for Billy. For the most part, he did okay. His fake personality was easy to keep up around his fists, found it so easy that he could hide in it and forget who he really was. Wasn’t until the day Max snuck out that it cracked. Wasn’t until Harrington was knocked out under him that it shattered. 

Unfortunately, the tape he used to piece it back together boosted the persona instead of killing it completely. People loved a power trip, loved seeing someone putting down the law on someone else for whatever reason it may be. So when Harrington came to school and the bruises on Billy’s own face and knuckles matched? All Hell broke loose in Hawkins High. Billy won, he won and he won and he won. He got the friends, the parties, the girls climbing into his lap. But he also got Tommy acting like his little bitch instead of trying to get to know him, too many nights drinking and driving, and having to blame whiskey dick on why he couldn’t get hard 5 times out of 6. Gave the most incredible head so that no rumors could be started that he wouldn’t fuck girls. Knew the ball and game and played it to a fucking tee. 

It takes everything in him not to startle at the soft knock on the door. He turns the water off, doesn’t meet his eyes in the mirror then dries his hands before he opens the door. Steve’s got a concerned look on his face, soft enough that Billy doesn’t bristle so much as sigh heavily but it’s there. Steve’s obviously ready to have that conversation and so he rolls his shoulders to shake away the thoughts he was having just moments before.

“Hey, you good?” Steve asks quietly, eyes flicking over Billy’s face at every breath.

“Yeah, yeah. Slept a little wonky, shoulder’s sore.” He can tell Steve doesn’t believe him but what the fuck, he’s not going to emotionally word vomit every time someone asks him if he’s okay. 

“We’re set up in the living room, I put water on for tea.” Steve goes to reach out but obviously must think better of it, instead runs his hand through his hair. “You’ve got- were you- ugh.” He lifts his hand up, thumb coming up to swipe above Billy’s lip and below his nose. He’s shocked when it comes away bloody, usually that only happens when he’s using his, whatever, powers and he wasn’t while he was in the bathroom. 

Steve brushes past him enough to get to the sink, his hip leaning across Billy’s arm. He’s hot to the touch, feels feverish almost but he doesn’t have any other signs of fever so Billy tries to not worry about it too much. Billy walks to the kitchen for tea before sitting on the floor in front of the couch, not wanting to be between Steve and Jonathan but still close enough he could participate in conversation. For the most part he listens to Hopper recap what they’ve already been over, doesn’t leave room for error or questions. Brings up today’s run in with his dad. 

“Callahan is going to meet us at the quarry. Powell was already keeping loose tabs on Neil but now he’s keeping eyes on him. I want Billy in front, you’re going to be the only one who can remember the path you made. If or when we find this building I need you all to remember that even though it’s sure as shit not our first rodeo we have to tread carefully and keep communication open. 

“No loose cannon shit, we all have kids that are depending on us to get out of this alive. We do what needs to be done and we get the fuck out.” Hopper made pointed eye contact with each of them before nodding to himself. 

They take the two vehicles. Nancy, Billy and Steve in the van while Jonathan rode with Hopper and Joyce. It was entirely too quiet in the van. Billy sat next to Nancy as she drove, Steve stretching his legs out over the toolbox behind him. 

“Okay, I’m just going to say this now because I don’t want to wait until it’s heat of the moment but thank you, Billy.” 

He froze, knowing full well what she was thanking him for and not wanting to accept it. His hands clenched on the side of the seat, knuckles twinging under his skin from the force of it. 

“I didn’t do it for you.” But it wasn’t harsh or angry or even condescending. It was exhausted, it was hurt, it sounded so worn down that Steve’s head even snapped up behind them. 

“I didn’t think it was like that, at least not entirely. I know you didn’t do it for me. I know it was just as selfish as everything else you’ve done, but it still saved me and I still thank you for it.” Nancy also didn’t sound prissy or rude when she said it. Billy was expecting a lot more shit, a lot more attitude and nasty looks. Steve wasn’t the only one who confused Billy like this. 

So he grunts and looks out the window instead of replying. Brings a thumb up to chew on his nail and realizes his nose is bleeding again. Uses his sleeve to block it on the drive up the sides of the quarry. Gets out and immediately goes to the cliffed edge. He feels he can breathe better standing all the way up there, watching the water ripple sinisterly under him, knowing one step too far can bring the end so close. He feels alive, loves the sound of his pulse in his ears, the blood pumping through his veins. The thrill up his spine as the wind blows and he moves a little with it, lets himself fall back onto the balls of his feet. 

Steve looks amused when he turns around, Nancy’s looking up into the sky while talking to who Billy presumes is deputy Callahan. Hopper is just pulling his vehicle up, illuminating Billy in golden light. He quickly turns back to the water and feels almost heavenly with the lights still on him. Feels like he could float right up into the air. He pulls himself from the ledge and looks to the east, knows he wasn’t heading true south when he was running through the thick woods. He closes his eyes and listens, hears Hopper talking and Joyce making a noise in the back of her throat while Jonathan huffs a laugh. Hopper telling Callahan to tape off the quarry for the night, keep the kids from sneaking out here if he can. Billy keeps his eyes closed and visualizes the scene in front of him. He starts taking steps forward, his mind’s eye pulling the past night up and replaying his steps in great detail. He’s going through it, like a film that he has to watch backwards to make sense of. 

He feels something grab the elbow of his sweater and he jerks back into his body only to snap his head over to Steve, Nancy two steps behind him. Their faces are identical, eyes wide and mouths slightly parted, shock and wonder morphing together. Better than fear, he thinks.

“Just follow me, okay?” Billy whispers, voice wavering and low. 

Steve nods but doesn’t release his elbow so Billy just pulls in a deep breath and closes his eyes to sink back in. He made the run from the building to the quarry in forty five minutes so it’ll probably take them three fucking hours to get there walking at a slow pace. He can hear the crunching sounds of the footsteps behind him, crunching leaves and sludge like snow under them. It sets him on edge. He can count the pairs of feet, knows it matches how many people are supposed to be there but he feels extra energies. Feels people in the woods miles off from them, stops dead. 

“There’s people. In the woods.” When he opens his eyes he’s facing the direction of the closest person, he’s reaching out and pushing in and seeing that they’re sweeping the woods with something that looks like a metal detector. Radiation detectors, maybe?

“What’s happening?” Hopper asks, quiet in the lethal way. Like he knows shits really about to hit the fan.

“They’re uh, sweeping the woods with these uh, things?” He makes the motions they are, arms reaching out like he’s holding an invisible device and swinging them slowly in a swaying motion. 

When he turns to look at Hopper he sees the man making a face to Joyce, her eyes wide and mouth in a firm line. 

“Any of them close enough up there?” Hopper points the original way they were traveling and Billy slips under again, checking the woods fiercely. They’re moving down the hills around the quarry, sweeping around trees and larger clumps of snow. 

“‘Bout three miles to the west, heading south not east, should be able to slide past ‘em. Just keep your eyes out.” Billy gives no space for a reply before he’s sinking back in and leading Steve forward, his feet almost tripping behind Billy. 

Billy feels like he’s not breathing the entire walk there, chest tight and panic gripping his heart. He knows they all can hear the unearthly screeches and creaks, heard Steve’s breathing start to stutter the louder they became. Billy reached behind him and fisted Steve’s sweater when they get within five miles of the building, woods fogging over and rot floating in the air, Billy’s heart pounding nearly out of his chest as he stops.

“We’re five miles out.” He whispers to Steve who nods and relays the message down the line behind them. 

Hopper walks up to Billy and looks down at him for a few seconds before nodding a few times to himself. Billy doesn’t know what his face looks like, or what’s going on with his eyes, he feels frozen in his spot. Feels like he’s on the ledge again but not in the freeing way he was used to feeling. Feels the cold sweat running down his back and shivers, Steve squeezes his elbow before releasing and turning to look through the woods around them. 

“We’ll take over from here.” He points his chin to Joyce and they start walking ahead of everyone else, Hopper’s hand stuck on his hip as he surveys his steps before he takes them. Joyce has two flashlights that she’s using in a million different directions. Billy follows the lights where they land and back with his eyes, following Steve almost blindly. 

He sees the monster before anyone else does, apparently. He jumps out of their line and runs forward, grunts at the impact before the thing got right into Joyce’s face. He feels the warm trickle of blood over his mouth and almost sighs in relief. This is familiar, at least. He knows how to do this on routine alone now, can lift his hands up and-

He’s on his back, monster above him, millions and millions of teeth right in his face. Billy’s laughing with it, knows how it’s too loud and bouncing around the empty woods but he puts a hand on the monster’s chest and it’s turning into a puddle of goo over him. He feels strange when he looks up at the sky and sees the group all staring wildly at him. Steve’s bat is in the air, poised and ready, Nancy and Hopper both have guns out and Jonathan’s holding a crowbar in a defensive position. Joyce is the only one who’s looking around them, watching the woods for any other movement. 

They get to the building without running into any more monsters, Billy’s clothes stained a haunting black and goosebumps up his neck. The building looks much like he left it, if not a little more veiny. The black root looking things are covering it, like vines having grown for twenty years. Billy sucks in a breath and sees the door open with a monster nosing it’s way out. Can see a hallway filled with the same bodies he left behind. They stay stock still until the monster turns the corner of the building in the opposite direction and then make a different group plan.

Billy is to go first again, considerably the strongest person on the team at the moment and able to clear their paths, whereas Steve and Hopper will take the end. Jonathan and Nancy are to cover Billy if he slips at all, Billy had scoffed at that and Nancy elbowed him hard in his ribs. 

So they make it into the building, into the stairwell and then Billy’s shaking as he takes steps down. Remembering the same steps between his cell and the basements. Dragging his toes on cold concrete and rubbing the skin raw, sometimes ‘til they bled. He’s trying to reign in his anxiety, the sharp prickles in his chest that are begging him to turn around and run. They get to the second floor and Billy does a silent countdown from five before he pokes his head into the hallway. 

It seems empty, quiet. Red alarm lights still flashing, flooding the halls and making it feel even more eerie than it does with the black roots and rot in the air. He can hear Steve mumble “jesus christ” behind him, Hopper with a quick agreement. Billy knows he can’t feel the monsters when he sinks, knows that there’s no one on this level that he can use as his eyes and ears. Still he reaches out, knowing the group around him would stop any attacks if Billy didn’t catch them. He checks the building, feels someone in the basement. Tries to push into them but is blocked, someone already fulfilling the vessel. 

“Someone’s here but I can’t get into their head.” He knows he sounds worried, flicks his eyes between Hopper and the ground, can’t meet Steve’s confused gaze. “Maybe not someone but something.” He puts extra emphasis on the thing, see Jonathan get what he’s saying immediately and nods once at him.

“Where?” Jonathan asks, voice low and forcefully calm.

“Fourth floor basement.” 

“Jesus, of course. Why the fuck not?” Steve grumbles and it would’ve made Billy huff a laugh if he wasn’t focusing on the footsteps behind them.

“Get back into the stairwell, now.” His voice is firm, not giving away his fear which he’s incredibly grateful for. Feels he’s been too emotional, showing too much of himself to too many people. It’s different than the cry of help he had attempted before he died. 

They dodge the monster by seconds, Billy pulling the door shut behind him and keeping his hands there in precaution. He turns to their eyes set on him, Hopper turns to look over the ledge and down farther into the stairwell. He whistles low and long, raising an eyebrow at Billy and then nods for him to take his place at the front again. They manage to get to the third floor without any problems. Skittering nails against concrete sounds echoing around the stairwell and Billy keeps holding his breath until he sees spots across his vision. Focuses on Nancy’s calm breathing behind him as they walk forward, thankful that she has half a mind to keep herself from panicking. Billy can hear someone talking, glances at Nancy to see if she hears it too and she gives him a slight nod, so he turns back to the sound and closes his eyes.

“You let him walk out of here, let him slink into those woods and run away. Our one tool to keep this going and you let him leave.” A man’s voice was almost shouting, deep and brash. Harsh against Billy’s ears. 

He couldn’t see where they were, who was talking to who but the next voice that spoke up was undeniably Eddie Dominique.

“It wasn’t like you were specific on your instructions. You said let him cause hell, let him open the gate himself and then stroll out through the door like I was never there. I could’ve died, Henry. You didn’t tell me those things were gonna look like that.”

“You’ve sat in on his training, you knew damn fucking well what those god awful things looked like, stop being such a bitch and get this cleaned up before Dirks and Cracker get back.” 

“Still don’t know what kind of fucking code name Cracker is, feel like we’re dealing with morons here.” 

“Just shut the fuck up, Eddie.” 

Billy feels the anger swelling in his chest, can feel his heart spike with it. Turns his lungs to flames and instead of looking back to Nancy, Billy just bursts into the hallway. He finds the men four rooms down, cleaning up bodies by stacking them on top of each other. Billy decks the one guy, he guesses he’s Henry, right in his jaw and he goes down hard. Eddie jolts back quick, light on his feet despite his stature, and laughs when he gets a good look at Billy. He hears the group rushing in behind him, Hopper coming to stand next to Billy with his hand out to block Henry from rushing Billy. 

Eddie laughs again and Billy turns and rips the bat from Steve’s hands. Puts one hand on top of the other, swings his wrists to give the bat a wobble as he stares Eddie straight in the eyes.

“Eddwad.”

“Amigo, so nice to see you again.” Eddie smiles, all teeth and Billy feels the blood running over his chin and the goosebumps go down his neck. 

Eddie’s got black veins on the left side of his neck, one of his eyes is full of black blood vessels that look like they’re in the middle of popping open. Billy’s face to face with the same fucking monster that took him over and he feels like puking. He’s holding Steve’s bat up like he can’t just use his mind and make Eddie’s head explode, threatening an other dimensional monster with a stupid fucking baseball bat. He feels like he’s losing already. 

He can hear everyone shift into position behind him, knows Nancy has been reading his body language and they’ve all seen Eddie’s face and neck by this point. Hopper still has a hand around Henry’s throat, Billy can’t take his eyes off Eddie long enough to see if Henry is also infected. Eddie moves to fast that Billy drops the bat in his haste to follow him down the hall and towards the stairwell. Follows him down and down and down until they’re in the chamber. Hears Steve huffing behind him, Nancy’s light feet right behind him. Hears Jonathan loading a gun while he’s running. The four of them are facing off Eddie and Hopper and Joyce aren’t there and Billy doesn’t fucking know-

The floors above them give an odd creak before pieces of ceiling start falling down, forcing them to split apart and makes them easier to control. There’s shadow hands, like the dream Steve shared with him, crawling the floors and Billy grunts when he throws a hand down to push Eddie back. Eddie holds onto him and they crash into the wall together, shadow hands now wrapping around Billy and he feels himself choking, his head feels like it’s on fire and suddenly Steve’s there with his bat, hitting Eddie in the back and forcing him down with a scream in pain. 

Billy can hear the screech coming from feet away and he sinks without closing his eyes, opening his mouth in a deep snarl and he pushes into the monster’s heads, forcing them to grab Eddie and take him home. Follows their trail mentally to find exactly where the gate is and then meets Nancy’s gaze.

“Did you just fucking control those demodogs?” She asks, hand out holding her gun and mouth gaped slightly. The wrist of Billy’s sweater has turned from blue to brown with the blood he keeps wiping from his mouth. It’s a cold, soggy weight that drags on his arm when moves, grosses him out but it’s not the worst he’s bled on clothes before.

“I made them go away, princess.” Billy pants, glances down the hall and sees Hopper running with Joyce right at his side.

“We have to go to the pit.” Billy says, voice wobbling but face stern. “The gate is open down there. Makes sense, it’s the coldest part of the fucking place.” 

“They have explosives set to go off in five, I think we should get the hell out of here.” Joyce says and Hopper follows her with “Fuckhead gave us some charges to bring down here, they were planning on closing this gate to make the main one bigger.” 

“If the Mind Flayer is here, shouldn’t we, like, I don’t know, do something about it?” Steve asks, hands tightening around the bat. “We have the ammunition to do it.” 

Billy closes his eyes to think, he’s thinking about his next move when someone places something in his hand. He blinks open to find Hopper in front of him, mouth set in a grim line, he’s holding Billy’s hand around the explosive charges but not meeting his eye.

Billy knows immediately what he’s trying to say and while it pisses him off that he’s being thrown to the wolves, or, to put it literally, the Upside Down, he knows that this is probably only something he can do. So he nods, looks at the group at large then turns and runs off. Time is something Billy has always been good with, despite Max’s attempts to throw him off his game. He hears a small argument break out behind him, lets it fade as he turns corners and runs faster to slide down under the bars separating the hall from the pit. 

He can see Eddie fending himself off from the monsters, howling with each bite they land to his body. Sees the moment Eddie looks at him and it’s different than earlier in the chamber. It’s all Eddie, not the Mind Flayer, and it gives Billy pause for a second before he shakes his head and gets his charge ready.

Of course, by the time he’s ready to toss the fucking thing through the black oozing wall behind Eddie, Steve is turning the corner and shouting for Billy to stop. It’s too late though, Eddie’s gone and the Mind Flayer is making him screech worse than the monsters around them. Billy lets the charge fly as he starts quickly backing up, trying to prevent Steve from getting any closer by gripping his arm and yanking him away. The blast goes off and they both go flying, Billy hitting the wall and sliding down, losing sight of Steve and all his senses for several long seconds. There’s ringing in his ears but also several unearthly screams, a sickening popping noise and then just black. 

He comes too moments later, when he’s being hauled up by strong arms and dragged to the stairwell. Much like when the guards dragged him from spot to spot, his feet are dragging behind him and his head is limp between his shoulders. He can hear dragging behind him, knows someone’s got Steve and he lets them take him up, up, up until they’re in the clearing by the woods they came through. He’s more alert by then, watching everyone’s movements, realizes that Jonathan is the one carrying him and twitches his arms to let them know he can put him down. Sees Steve stumbling alongside Nancy, blood clotting on his face but Billy can’t tell if it’s from his nose or forehead. 

The sharp pain in his left ankle is becoming overbearing, throbbing as hard as his pulse is in his ears. He uses his fingers, taking their sweet time complying with his thoughts, and pushes around his skin until he finds the center of the pain and grunts loudly.

“Ankle’s broke,” Billy grunts. He takes his sweater off quickly, ripping the sleeves into strips with his teeth and deft fingers. Wraps them tightly around his ankle and ties them off, rolls his sweat pant’s leg over them and ties that tightly too.

“Are you fucking crazy? You’re going to go into shock if you don’t keep yourself warm, asshole.” Steve’s snarling at him, grabbing his shoulder hard and pushing Billy to the side a little, looking right into his eyes and Billy is so relieved to see the burning flame in them. To know that Steve is fighting just as hard as Billy is to keep his fucking cool while burning from the inside out. 

“You see anything else out here I can wrap my shit with, pretty boy? Didn’t think so, I’ll fucking make through.” He grits his teeth, shrugging Steve’s grip off and nearly tweaking his aching shoulder. “Where’s Hopper? We have to get back to Hawkins.” He gets up and ignores the white hot throbbing shooting up his leg, feels the shin splints making his calves tighten, hisses through his teeth as he takes the first three staggering steps. Jonathan is quick to throw his hands out in case Billy falls on his ass again.

“You’re not going to be able to do a fucking thing if you don’t let us help you.” Steve grumbles, glaring at Billy and he wants to laugh at how ridiculous this is. Sees why the kids latch onto Steve so heavily. 

“So _help me_, Harrington. Where’s Hopper?” __

_ _Steve crosses his arms and sets his jaw. “He made it out of the basement before we did. I didn’t see where he went. Can’t you find him?” _ _

_ _“He’s too far.” Is all Billy gives him, turning to look back towards where the building is. He can’t feel any kind of energy from that direction, not a person searching in the woods, just nothing. It’s dead quiet and calm, unnaturally so. Not even the crunch of snow and twigs makes a sound. His ears might be ringing still. _ _

_ _“You can’t find them? What if they’re still in the building?” Jonathan asks, eyes pleading with Billy to make some kind of rescue plan. _ _

_ _“If they were in the building I could find them.” Billy says, flat like he’s bored. He’s reaching out while making eye contact with Jonathan but the four of them is the only people Billy’s finding. “So what’re we going to do? I have to get back to Hawkins.” _ _

_ _Nancy side eyes him then looks between Jonathan and Steve. Finally she crosses her arms over her chest and sighs._ _

_ _“Steve, you go with Billy. We’ll stay here and find any information we can and hopefully find Hop and Joyce.” Steve opens his mouth and she raises a hand to silence him. “We’re not going back in there, promise. But we’re not going to leave before we’re sure everyone else is out.”_ _

_ _“Great plan, goodbye.” Billy says quickly, taking careful steps into the brush while still trying to hustle. _ _

_ _“He’s always going to be dick, isn’t he?” Jonathan asks quietly and Steve just sighs before walking fast to catch up with him. _ _

_ _“Don’t say a fucking thing, Harrington. That was the biggest shit show I’ve ever seen.” _ _

_ _“Yeah, cause it always goes so perfectly every fucking time.” Billy snorts, mean and cold. He can see that Steve’s still keyed up, looking around them anxiously but with an edge in his eyes that Billy’s seen once directed at him with a two fingered jab to his chest. “Besides, all I was going to ask was if you wanted to lean against me while you walked to make this faster and less painful.” _ _

_ _“No.” Billy grunts, using the pain to push forward. _ _

_ _“God, are you always this stubborn?” It’s almost a whine, like if Billy looked he’d be pouting._ _

_ _“That’s fucking rich, Harrington. Really fucking rich. Like a mousse pudding, thick and rich and still it comes out like everything else- steaming shit in a porcelain bowl.” He chances a glare over and meets Steve’s own. Can taste the electricity in the air, feels near to how it did when they faced each other down in front of the Byers’._ _

_ _“Billy.” Steve says, low and warning right on the edge of his tongue. _ _

_ _“Whatever.” Billy says, shoulders rising up to his ears and limping all the way. _ _

_ _They don’t talk after that, keep their ears and eyes out for problems or signs of Joyce and Hopper. They make it back to the quarry and Billy can tell the sky is about to start getting lighter, can feel the sun coming before it’s even happening. They need to speed up to get this done._ _

_ _“You still have that shovel in here?” He taps the side of the van, Hopper’s truck is still parked a few feet over. He looks over the edge of the crater and sees Callahan sitting on his cruiser looking up at them but sipping a small cup of coffee. He raises it in acknowledgement and Billy turns away to look at Steve._ _

_ _“What’s the plan?” Steve asks, settling in behind the driver’s seat and looking out the window at him. _ _

_ _“We’re going to my grave.”_ _


	12. Devil's gonna get you if I don't first

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiii I feel kinda weird about this chapter. Steve and Billy argue a lot, there's some touching of a 'please don't panic' kind and yeah I've been bouncing between hotel rooms so if this doesn't add up or whatever please tell me lol. I'm running on zero sleep and all the anxiety. next chapter has been outlined and started but everything else is up in the air. thanks for the consistency in loving, y'all have really boosted my mood and my productivity.

Steve’s trying to beat the sunrise, thinks he’s doing a good job since Billy isn’t bitching at him, van going as fast as it can while he’s keeping an eye on the hiding spots that the police usually sit to catch speeders. He had turned the radio on, had relaxed into Phil Collins’ calming tones, had let that push him into thinking about what the fuck they were doing.

“Christ, Hopper is going to kill us later.” He’s already accepted this fate, has heard the same argument over and over. Has felt guilt about it before, knows he will again but can’t bring himself to care about that right now. All he wants is confirmation that everyone is alive, if a little banged up. 

“Hopper ain’t gonna do shit, Harrington.” Billy’s gruff. He’s always been rough around the edges, always let his hands talk when words failed him. Words very rarely failed for Billy, he always had something smart or sarcastic to say but sometimes the delivery needed a little impact to make the point.

Steve gets the point, this time. 

“Listen, asshole, we’re all on the same page here.” Steve looks over at him quickly, foot pressing down firmly on the accelerator, glances down at the dash to watch the needle push past the limit. 

“Oh? And how is that, Harrington, do enlighten me? ‘Cause the page I’m on ain’t even in your fucking book, amigo.” Billy waits a breath too long then huffs out a mean laugh. “God damn, you really just-”

“Shut the fuck up.” Steve says low, brows furrowing and jaw clenching. He glances over at Billy briefly to find a bright smile there, a sick edge in his eyes. “Just shut the fuck up for once in your goddamn life.” He slaps a hand on the top of the dashboard, tightens his shoulders at the echo around the cab, when Billy opens his mouth. 

Steve feels sick when Billy’s face slackens, eyes widen and he turns his head completely away from Steve. He feels like he went too far, needs to reign it all back in quick before this turns down a road that they can’t come back from. 

“I don’t know if this… attitude you have right now is because you’re stressed or scared or… whatever you’re feeling right now.” He’s trying, desperately, to remember what Robin had tried to teach him about comforting people who are lashing out. They often discussed feelings, things that Steve couldn’t confide with Nancy anymore. Robin taught him a lot without hurting him, showed him examples of situations where he should’ve handled something significantly more delicately than rush in and bust shit down and leave. 

“I don’t know how you’re feeling right now, I’m scared to ask and I’m also scared you’re going to hold it against me or physically hurt me, ‘cause we don’t have the best running track record… so anyway, can you tell me how to help you or will you cut the shit out?” He looks over at Billy, quick, looking back to the road to find the turn to the cemetery. 

“God, this isn’t some kind of confessional, man. I don’t want to talk about every fucking thing. It’s been like that the entire time I’ve been with you and I suggest you back the fuck off me-”

“I can give you breathing space, I’ve been trying to give you breathing space.” He holds up a hand as he pulls through the cemetery gates. “I’m perfectly fine with leaving you alone, fuck, don’t think I’m trying to force you to be around me.” 

Billy gets real quiet after that, Steve thinks it’s because he realizes where he is but when he looks over Billy is staring at him with this puzzled look on his face. He quickly blanks it, turns so far into the window that Steve can only catch the reflection of him as they pass lamp posts. So he keeps driving until they reach the corner of the lot. He pulls up where the hearse had sat, can see that day in front of him so perfectly even in the dark.

The sun had made it nearly unbearable. Steve had almost sweat all the way through his suit jacket. His shirt was ruined by how much he had sweat. He wore his Ray Bans, knew Billy found them pretentious from the scoff they earned him at the pool before he started working at Scoops. Neil’s suit had blue diamond shapes threaded into the jacket and pants. He wore a grey dress shirt underneath and gold cufflinks. Prim and Proper with his picture perfect grieving family next to him. Susan’s hair swept into a beautiful bun with gems twisted into it. Max had a beautiful french braid. The black dresses on their skin made them look ethereal. It was all ostentatious, the way Neil grieved. 

Billy would be so mad if he knew. 

“Earth to loser, come in loser.” Billy puts his hand over his mouth to create a nasally sound and Steve blinks back into himself, can’t help the small chuckle. “You gettin’ outta the van or no?” 

He swings the door open in reply, stretches his arms above his head as he turns and pretends he doesn’t see Billy’s gaze drop before coming back up. 

“This is it?” Billy asks, voice carefully blank, eyes taking in his supposed resting spot. He looks almost disappointed.

“Not enough flowers for ya, huh?” Steve cracks, nudges a bouquet that he knows Max brought. Knows she used to bring something once a week when her allowance could afford it. Once, he had come with her. He had listened to her call Billy an asshole, listened to her ask him why he couldn’t have just talked to her, listened to her ask if things could’ve ever been different between them. 

Billy doesn’t answer, and for the umpteenth time he feels something is happening, a moment of some kind is happening, but Steve doesn’t know how to handle it. Thinks he said something wrong when Billy shutters his face off and then steps up in front of the grave to lean on his shovel.

“So we’re really doing this?” Steve asks once they’re both standing with a shovel in front of the grave. 

“Trying to back out?” Billy asks, raising a singular eyebrow almost menacingly. He looks so much like he did before they graduated that it almost throws Steve through a loop. 

“You’re the one with the broken ankle, dipshit.” Steve gets a sly grin as reply, gets a wink before Billy pushes his shovel as hard as he can into the dirt and throws it somewhere off his shoulder. 

“Scared of some callouses on those soft hands, pretty boy?” 

_Oh it is so on_, Steve thinks. He settles his shovel in front of him before he pounds it into the ground with a grunt and a laugh from Billy. __

_ _Eventually, Steve looks up at the orange glow above the trees surrounding them, streaks of pinks and purples cutting into the skyline. He’s soaked to his bones in sweat and dirt, knows that Billy is in a similar state next to him. They’re both leaning on their shovels again, panting softly. From where he’s standing, Steve can see the beads of sweat pouring down the side of Billy’s throat. Can see them slowly meeting and creating new tracks, puddling slightly in his collar bones before soaking into the torn up, dingy, blood and mud covered sweater. It was a nice one that his mom had gotten him for Easter three years ago. He kept it because it felt good between his thumb and finger, he can see the spot through the mud where he wore the fabric down until it turned white. _ _

_ _They’re inside of Billy’s grave, standing on top of his dark mahogany casket. When Billy saw what it looked like he had stopped, it had felt like another one of those moments, where Steve was left grappling with what he should or shouldn’t do while Billy had started pushing the mud off with his hands. Steve had heard a few sniffles and a broken sob when the position tweaked his ankle. Couldn’t bring himself to ask if Billy was crying, he knew when to leave well enough alone, didn’t want to deal with the emotional lash out he expected would happen._ _

_ _“Steve?” Billy asks, his eyes are pointed up but his posture is open like he’s waiting for the first swing._ _

_ _“Hm?” He’s cautious, looking at the side of Billy’s face but keeping his own carefully blank._ _

_ _“What are we going to do if there’s a body?” _ _

_ _And, yeah, Steve had known realistically that that was a major possibility- they didn’t usually bury empty caskets but this was a peculiar situation. He wasn’t at Will’s funeral, didn’t really know how things went down when they figured out the body wasn’t his. So he stands stock still and tries to think until the anger swooping in his belly makes him jerk back slightly._ _

_ _“Man, this was your shot-gunned plan. Hop said no hero tricks, no lone wolf antics. So, you actually dug your own grave, mother fucker.” Billy opens his mouth then quickly shuts it. He watches Billy’s shoulders come up, watches him turn into himself before he nods once and brings the shovel down with a grunt and a splintering sound. _ _

_ _He continues to watch Billy as he bursts open the top half of the lid, blinks at him like ‘I don’t fucking know’ when Billy turns to him and puts his hands out. He’s paying more attention to how light the sky is getting instead of Billy figuring out what’s in the casket, listening for any cars driving past the lot. He turns his head, too sharp and twinges his neck, when Billy sucks a sharp breath in. There’s a dead demodog in Billy’s casket. There’s a dead demodog and another folded white paper. They share a look, another moment in the sea of all moments, something that Steve feels like he should understand but doesn’t, before Billy sucks in another breath and bends down to grab it. Steve starts to worry about Billy’s ankle, it’s been three hours since they left the quarry and he’s sure it’s swelling like all hell inside his borrowed boots. His walkie has been discarded by the headstone above them, but he hasn’t heard anything from Nancy. _ _

_ _The paper Billy opens is another picture. It’s from Starcourt, Billy’s arms are above him and pushing at the Mind Flayer. It’s moments before Billy’s death and the sudden realization shocks Steve so brutally that he climbs out of the pit they’re in. He climbs out and starts brushing the dirt off himself like it’ll actually make a difference, like he isn’t going to shower for the next three weeks and keep finding it in awkward places. He’s cursing to himself over a particularly huge spot of mud on his jeans, caked up and staining no doubt. _ _

_ _“Let him in,” Billy croaks. “The fuckin’ paper says ‘let him in.’ What the fu-” He gasps, sits down harshly on the other door of the casket. He’s too pale under blood and mud and sweat. It scares Steve a lot. _ _

_ _He leans down and reaches a hand into the pit to grab at Billy’s shoulder. They get with the program, a few seconds of fumbling, before Steve is taking all of Billy’s weight to lift him out, taking extra caution to be careful around his ankle. They look at each other again and this time Steve gets it. He can read the look all over Billy’s face like he can read the letters Robin used to send. _ _

_ _“C’mere.” He says, keeps himself quiet and calm as he thuds onto the ground behind Billy. Keeps himself easy and open as he pulls Billy into his chest, wraps two warm arms around him and lets Billy sag against him. _ _

_ _“I don’t think this one came from me, either.” Billy mumbles, pokes Steve’s hand over his chest with his thumb. “Both of these pictures were things you cooked up in that big, dumb head’a yers.” Steve shuts his eyes, listens to how exhausted Billy sounds. Feels the dents in his chest, solid but still haunting. Can’t help himself from thumbing around the muscle there gently. _ _

_ _“We’ll take this back to the cabin, just gotta fill the plot back in and get Hopper to help point us in a better direction on where to go from here.” Steve says instead of arguing back like he wants to, can’t bring himself to ask any questions about it now. Doesn’t know where to start, doesn’t have the energy to deny having dreams that Billy sat in on anyways. _ _

_ _“I need to get Max.” Steve’s head is gonna start pounding harder than it already is, can feel it settle into his eyes and behind his ears. “I need to get Max, Steve.” He sounds so desperate that Steve can’t do anything but nod._ _

_ _“Okay, okay. Let’s just… get cleaned up here and figure it out. We have to get to the cabin at some point, to check in. I don’t know-” _ _

_ _The walkie buzzes ten feet away, a shockingly sharp noise in the effortless quiet that’s settled around them. He feels Billy jerk, then stiffen. He peels Steve’s hands off him before he uses the shovel next to them as leverage to stand up. He’s barely putting weight on his hurt ankle and Steve wants so badly to reach out and stabilize him. Instead he swallows the feeling down and snatches the walkie up._ _

_ _“What is better than blueberry pie?” He waves Billy off when he snaps his head over to look at Steve with a shocked grin on his face._ _

_ _“Sex on the beach.” Nancy replies. It sets Steve on edge, but also makes him chuckle thinking about the chocolate cake that he almost choked on when her grandma told him the name. “Hopper’s waiting at the cabin, over.” _ _

_ _She says it so quietly, no tone to her voice for Steve to attempt to understand. This message he reads even more clear. Trouble. Can’t relay over the walkie how bad but it’s trouble nonetheless. _ _

_ _“Give us an hour.” He turns the walkie off, knows the routine and ritual. Turns back to Billy, see the confused and amused look there. “We gotta split, like now.”_ _

_ _“What? And just leave my plot like this?” He looks angry, but his eyes seem more conflicted than that. “That’ll go over real well. My dad might just stroke out.” _ _

_ _“Your dad has probably thought about doing this himself, just to see.” Billy scoffs at Steve, his small laugh is pointed at the trees as he turns his head with it. Billy rolls his shoulders then nods once before he glances back to Steve._ _

_ _They turn to look into the plot together, three feet apart and seeing the same dead demodog in the same busted up casket. Without saying anything they start shoveling the muddy dirt back into the plot, slightly lumpy piles getting dragged in and patted back down. It’s a whack job of a clean up but it’ll have to do until tonight when they can get back. Billy’s huffing by the time they’re done, leaning too heavily on the shovel so Steve pushes him a little and forces his arm over his shoulders. They both smell disgusting and look even worse than that, but it’s a true testament to how Billy’s feeling when he just allows Steve to drag him to the van and set him up in the back. _ _

_ _“We have a quick stop to make before we go back to the cabin and then we’re getting Max.” He says it really fast so there’s no space for argument, can see Billy thinking it over before he lifts an arm up and flicks his wrist in a circular motion._ _

_ _“Just take the potholes easy, amigo.” It’s as much a dismissal as it is an endearment and Steve just huffs before high tailing it out of the cemetery. _ _

_ _He purposefully takes the long way around town, making sure they’re on their way to the junkyard. It’s only slightly out of the way of the cabin, figures if Hopper made it to the cabin they have a half hour of wiggle room before he gets restless over their absence. He hears Billy make a punched out noise when he turns into the junkyard, like he knows what they’re about to pull up to. He passes the busses, doesn’t even look at the bus he turned into a refuge, and trucks with busted out windshields. In the back of the lot rests the camaro. Neil gave the car up after assessing the damage and not thinking it worth the money. Max begged the junkyard guys to let her keep it, spends a few hours alone at the junkyard clearing away trash to pay her ‘lot rent’. She keeps a duffel bag of clothes, important papers and a bit of cash that Steve had helped her save up in the trunk, just for emergencies._ _

_ _He parks next to the car, knows that Billy’s seen it. He focuses on the boarded up windshield, the crater sized dent he put into the side of it from the Todd Father. There’s scratches and dents all over the car, he watched Max take his bat to finish out the windshield then panicked with her over the leather interior as the rain came rolling in one hot afternoon. They settled on the boards and some serious duct tape work. He can’t bring himself to turn around and look at Billy, just gets out and leaves the door open as he walks to the trunk and smacks it hard with his fist. It pops open easily enough, Steve sees the bags in the car have multiplied so Max must’ve been scared of something happening after Billy came home and brought some more stuff. He looks through the bags and sees some of Billy’s old clothes, his boots and his belt, there’s a small shoebox that Steve feels like he shouldn’t open, he thinks it might be something too personal. So he grabs it all and opens the back of the van to Billy’s watery face._ _

_ _“Could’ve given me a heads up, Harrington. No one wants to see their baby lookin’ like that.” He tries to play it cool, like he’s not a hairline trigger of repressed trauma that Steve can’t seem to think about enough to find ways to avoid triggers. Not that he even knows what the triggers are._ _

_ _So he gives out a small “sorry” and offers the bags Max left for him as a make up. Billy looks happy for the distraction and sucks a breath in when his hands come over the box. He quickly shoves it to the bottom of the bag and nods at the jackets and jeans inside. Max even brought underwear and Steve is suddenly so amazed by their relationship. He knows everyone has been handling Billy with kid gloves right now, he can see that Billy’s tired of it. Steve’s pretty tired of biting his tongue too, but if there’s any way they’re going to get through this it’s going to be better if it’s done together. _ _

_ _He stops at the office, a small almost entirely rotten wooden shack. The AC unit kicked the bucket last summer but the heat is blowing full blast when he steps in. The guys there know that Steve is someone that likes to slink under the radar. They offered him a small space to be when it was too much around Hawkins. He gets a few bags of ice, some electrical tape and two cups of warm coffee. Allows himself a few minutes to shoot the shit, asks about their kids and grandkids. Tells them about some party he was at in the middle of No Man’s Land last night, explaining away the mud, he brings up Billy’s broken ankle. Says “my friend partied a little too hard out there and got himself hurt,” just to hear them chuckle and Barry explain that ice can only do so much to help a break and they should hit the hospital right this instant young man. He thanks Barry and Len profusely before they push him out the door, each of the men grumbling about him being a ‘smelly, no good ass’ with their branded sly smiles. _ _

_ _When he returns to the van, Billy has moved to the passenger seat. He’s put a black sweater on, has his ankle wrapped up with new strips from Steve’s sweater and has it resting on the dashboard in front of him. He’s looking out the window, away from Steve, and has this almost dream like look on his face. Seconds tick by before he blinks and looks over at Steve then nods to the driver’s side._ _

_ _“Got you a coffee. Not sure how you take it, so I hope you’re cool with black.” Steve says as he hands the cup over, once Billy has it in his hand he offers up the two bags of ice. “Barry says icing a break is the first step before going to the hospital and since, you know, we can’t exactly go to the hospital….” _ _

_ _Billy has a small, mirthful smile on his face when he places the ice bags around and on his ankle. He nods his thanks to Steve, taking a sip of the coffee and slouching down in the seat a little more. _ _

_ _“My ankle’s gonna be okay, you know that right? Like whatever they’ve got me hopped up on is gonna fix this. My split lips and bruised ribs never lasted longer than, like, four hours tops. You don’t gotta mother hen me the way you do those brats.” _ _

_ _“Turns out they mother hen me more than I ever could for them.” It makes Billy laugh a little, which in turn makes Steve feel something loosen in his chest as they drive off towards the cabin. “You do realize we’re about to get the dressing down of the century, right?” Steve asks, looks over at Billy before turning back to the road, sun rising fast and brightly in their faces._ _

_ _He reaches up to grab his sunglasses from the visor above him as Billy shakes his head._ _

_ _“It’s not going to be that bad.” Is all he says, quiet, almost like he doesn’t want to say it or say anything that’s going to lead to more questions and usually Steve asks every question that comes to his mind but everything with Billy feels so delicate that he simply can’t find his voice to ask._ _

_ _“One time Hopper made Dustin pee himself a bit from glaring at him alone. Only because he took the last waffle cone. You don’t mess around with Hopper.” _ _

_ _“Man, this is turning into some kinda fucked up pissing contest again. I’m gonna win because Jim Hopper has nothing, and I mean fuckin’ nothin’, on Neil William Hargrove. Hopper is like… a cuddly bear in comparison, don’t even get me started.” Billy sounds so angry, but in a way that Steve knows he could press and get information. He sounds pissed off but reverent, like he’s caught in a memory of the worst fight with his dad. _ _

_ _“Okay, so here’s the problem I’m having with you.” He starts, knows he better speak fast or Billy might turn this into something bigger than it is. He’s trying to remember exactly how Robin had phrased this. “You say these things, and while I respect your personal space and privacy, you just keep saying these things and I have, like, so many questions. I know, as much as Max allowed me to, how your dad actually treated you. But it’s a uh, a boundary thing? I don’t want to ask if you don’t want me to but I want you to feel like you could tell me without-”_ _

_ _“Harrington. Steve.” He amends himself quickly, not looking anywhere except straight out the windshield. “I don’t know how to explain which parts are off the table. I know that most of the time I don’t want to talk about anything surrounding that part of my life.” He says it like he’s already moved on, like he’s talking about something that hasn’t existed in a while and Steve guesses that’s true. Neil Hargrove will never lay a hand on Billy again. “I don’t want to be treated like glass, I don’t know, don’t like… talk down to me.”_ _

_ _Like it’s that simple. Like Steve could ask anything as long as he wasn’t aggressive about it and Billy would answer._ _

_ _“Do you miss being home?” Steve asks._ _

_ _“It’s been a while since I felt like I was home. Before we even came to this shit town.” It’s vague, but it’s enough to tell Steve that Billy’s been hurting for longer than he originally thought. _ _

_ _“What helped you survive being in that lab?” Steve asks, genuinely curious but he keeps himself in check. He keeps his voice smooth and quiet. _ _

_ _Billy licks his lips and it pulls Steve in. He should be watching the road, but he can’t stop staring at Billy’s spit shiny lips. “Next question.” He says, voice as sweet and saccharine as if he’d just started smooth talking a girl._ _

_ _It makes Steve a little too hot under his collar. He can’t find his words, much less use his tongue to form them, so he just sighs and looks further down the road. Tries to imagine what the Mind Flayer would look like chasing them out here, like it chased them from the mall. That thought makes his heart race uncomfortably so he’s stuck thinking about Billy again. Thinks about the light in his eyes when he makes a joke, thinks it might make him a little weak when Billy smiles or laughs genuinely. Hates thinking about what it means, but knows that he’s vulnerable for Billy fucking Hargrove. He knows, has known since before Billy ever bashed his fucking face in, that Billy wasn’t any typical macho guy. He had an edge to him, something that screamed he had secrets and skeletons locked away in plenty of California closets. _ _

_ _Steve also had his own secrets and skeletons locked away in motel closets all along the east coast. Names of people and places and things that he’ll never be able to have or hold in his real life, but something that made other world portal hunting and Billy scavenging a little better on those long nights. It was his best kept secret and his worst mistake, or, maybe, not mistake. He hadn’t quite gotten to that conversation with Robin, he was completely clueless how to even initiate conversation. He realizes too late that he left the conversation with Billy linger for too long. He looks over quickly, meets Billy’s eyes and then almost tweaks his neck when he snaps back to the road in front of him. He has to slightly jerk the van back into the right lane and Billy sniggers._ _

_ _“So what’s your malfunction, Harrington?” Steve starts to panic, thoughts circling around Billy slinking into his head and seeing his most private secrets. _ _

_ _“What do you mean?” He asks, voice cracking and hoarse. _ _

_ _“Why’d you get so caught up on little ol’ me?” Billy puts a hand to his chest and bats his lashes, it’d piss Steve off if it weren’t so fucking distracting. _ _

_ _He swallows a few times before he speaks again. “Next question.” He says in an imitation of Billy from just moments before. He smirks when Billy cracks out a laugh, huffs when Billy smacks his shoulder._ _

_ _“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were obsessed with me.” Billy’s leaning towards him, eyes intent on his face as if he were looking for something there. Steve won’t make the mistake of meeting his eyes again._ _

_ _“Guess it’s a good thing you don’t know shit then.” He flicks down his visor to block the sun out better and it’s silent the rest of the drive to the cabin, he doesn’t look over at Billy once. _ _

_ _Jane is waiting on the front steps when they pull up. Billy goes rigid in the seat next to him and won’t answer Steve when he asks a quiet “what’s up?” Jane’s looking intently at Billy the entire time they get out of the van and trudge up to the cabin. By the time they make it to the bottom step Hopper has come out to stand behind Jane, the look on his face tells Steve his assumption about trouble was correct._ _

_ _“Neil Hargrove is looking for you again, Steve.” Hopper lights up a smoke, takes a deep pull before leveling both Steve and Billy with an unimpressed glare. “Said he saw you fucking around with his boy’s gravesite this moring.” _ _

_ _Steve’s stomach falls down to his feet. He thought he’d been paying attention, thought he’d kept his eyes and ears split around to be able to tell when someone was coming or leaving. Unless Neil was already there when they got there, but that didn’t seem likely either. They didn’t pass any cars or people going in or out of the cemetery. Unless Neil was just trying to cause trouble for him. Fuck. _ _

_ _“There’s a dead demodog in Billy’s grave.” Hopper shuts his eyes closed and curses to himself before throwing a thumb over his shoulder. _ _

_ _Murray Bauman is sitting on the couch in the living room. Billy goes rigid again once he sees him but Murray pays either of them any attention. He’s got the entire party circled around him as he talks about escape routes and the easiest way to get to Illinois through the woods. Max is the only kid missing. Lucas is talking about Erica, Steve blanks out for a second before he sees the top of her head moving around in the kitchen. Hears Joyce give a startled laugh at something she says and then Nancy comes walking in from the hall. She looks between Steve and Billy, rolls her eyes and then hands Billy her towel. _ _

_ _“Go ahead and get cleaned up, okay?” She says to him, looks right into his eyes as if she’s never feared him in life and wraps her hand around his, towel preventing their skin from meeting. “We have to talk once you’re done.” Billy nods once, refuses to look at Steve and leaves the room._ _

_ _“Okay, what the actual fuck is going on?” He grabs Nancy around her elbow, not rough but firm enough that she would have to jerk herself away. “How did you have time to get Murray and the kids here? Why are they even here? And where the hell is Max?” _ _

_ _Nancy levels him with a truly frightening look. She doesn’t bother pulling away from him though, so he knows he’s still teetering on the edge of crossing a line._ _

_ _“Neil Hargrove saw you and Billy this morning. Max’s walkie has been off since six. Dustin was panicking over not being able to contact her. Murray was brought here by Joyce because this is an all hands on deck situation now.” She looked into his eyes for what felt like ten years but was probably less than ten seconds before she pulled out of his grip softly. “You need to shower, eat something and get the hell out of here. Hop’s pulling together a plan, he wants to talk to Billy. Alone.” She put emphasis when Steve opened his mouth._ _

_ _“Okay. Okay.” He swiped a hand across his mouth, looked out into the living room and made eye contact with a few of the kids. He saw the same questions in their eyes that were running through his head. “Hey- hey, Nance, you still got that portable?” He tried to remember the phone number off the top of his head, could only remember everything except the last three digits. _ _

_ _Nancy nodded, she knew exactly what Steve’s plan was and obviously was more on board with him calling someone else than him trying to talk to someone in the cabin at the moment. She left for a few moments, Steve turned and stared out the grimy window. Watched the snow start to stick instead of sludge even with the sun bright in the sky. Nancy returns shortly, hands him the portable and the extra battery she carries in case it dies. _ _

_ _“Forty eight nineteen.” She says, looks right into his eyes and then lets go of the phone as she turns towards the kitchen. Hopper disappeared as soon as they got back into the cabin, Steve doesn’t feel up to hunting down everyone and getting piece by piece information when he could just wait and get it all and ask his questions then. _ _

_ _He steps outside and dials._ _

_ _“If this is another one of those collector calls I will have you know my dad is the best lawyer in Hawkins and he will squeeze every last penny from your cheap ass suit pockets.” _ _

_ _“Hey, Robs.” Steve laughs, holds his breath as the line goes quiet and then staticky as Robin breathes out heavily._ _

_ _“Dingus. I was starting to think I’d never hear from you again. Girl goes off to college and her best friend can’t even write her back? Talk about rude.” _ _

_ _“You know-”_ _

_ _“I know, Steve.” She sounds resigned, it eats away at Steve. It always ate away at Steve. He misses her so viscerally it hurts more than he can handle. “I’m home for break. Are you?” _ _

_ _“Yeah, actually, about that- I can’t, like, get into it right now but, uh, if you wanted to meet at our spot? Later?” He turns when the door to the cabin opens and Billy raises an eyebrow at him, tilts his head back and points his eyes inside. Steve knows when he’s being beckoned. _ _

_ _“Just after the sun goes down, don’t be late asshole.” Robin says then hangs up on him. He feels weighed down in the best way. Thinks of how Nancy used to to bring this feeling to him, used to be a lot easier life too but Steve won’t complain too much on how things have changed._ _

_ _“Get your shower over with so we can find Maxine.” Billy sounds pissed, a different kind of pissed than Steve is used to. He’s seen that anger directed at him too many times to know that when Billy gets like this all he needs is a spark to get the fire raging out of control. But he’s reigning himself in, saving his spark for something bigger than Steve. _ _

_ _Steve rushes through getting clean, making sure the dirt is out of his hair more than anything else. He’s sliding into his jeans when Billy comes barging into the room and then stops short. Steve would almost laugh if he wasn’t caught in his shorts with his jeans mid-thigh and blanking out at the look Billy’s giving him._ _

_ _“Uh-” Billy starts, seems to snap himself out of his head and then looks at the ceiling as if Steve is too difficult to look at. “Food.” Is all Billy manages to get out before he’s pushing himself back through the door with a few mumbled curses._ _

_ _Steve does laugh then. He gives himself three minutes to hysterically laugh about all of it. About being stuck with undead Billy, who knows exactly what to say seventy percent of the time but can’t talk to Steve with his pants down, about the constant fear of another dimension opening up and swallowing his world whole, about Nancy Wheeler knowing him too fucking well, and Robin coming home to more bullshit than she left with. It’s hilarious, it’s tragic, it makes Steve feel the emotional bile rise up and chokes it down with his orange juice as he’s sitting around his family. Hopper and Billy disappear for ten minutes after everyone eats. The kids sit Steve down in the living room and explain the Max situation to him._ _

_ _“So, usually, when Max gets up in the morning she’ll walkie in and make sure everyone’s awa-”_ _

_ _“No, Lucas, she only does that for you. We’ve been trying to tell you-”_ _

_ _“Shut up, Mike, she checks on everyone.”_ _

_ _“Yeah, like the day of the science fair! She made sure I was actually coming to schoo-”_ _

_ _“Because she wanted to compete with you in the fair, you idiot!” _ _

_ _“I know Max has a competitive streak, like, as big as the quarry, but c’mon-”_ _

_ _“Dustin you know better than anyon-”_ _

_ _“Okay okay okay, shitheads! One at a time, christ.” Steve points to Lucas. “You said she walkies every morning and she just didn’t today or what?” _ _

_ _Lucas swallowed roughly and shook his head. “No she did, but Neil was yelling in the back and then she just cut out. He was getting louder like he was getting closer to her and she’s been radio silent since.” _ _

_ _Billy was frozen between the living room and the kitchen, looking between Lucas and Steve with a furrowed brow. Lucas looked a little frightened at the sight of him but slightly relaxed when Billy walked over to Steve and sat on the floor next to him. Steve bumps his shoulder with his knee then nods to Lucas._ _

_ _“You make out what Neil was saying?” Billy asks, voice forcefully calm but Lucas still looked wary. _ _

_ _“Something about lies and liars? Respect-”_ _

_ _“And responsibility, yeah.” Billy grunts and then runs a hand over his head. “Fuck.” He pulls a deep breath into his lungs before rolling his head back to look at Steve. “Guess hiding out has been fun but it’s time for me to go home now.” _ _

_ _“Literally what the fuck did I just say to you?” Hopper asks, glaring at Billy from across the living room. But Billy doesn’t ruffle his feathers back, doesn’t get pissed off and mean. He just balefully looks right back at Hopper then shakes his head._ _

_ _“Man, the fuck. If I were gonna pull some shit I’d’a already left. Back off, Papa Bear.” Billy rolls his eyes then shrugs his shoulders. “Neil’s never put his hands on Max.” Billy looks to Lucas and they share a nod, an unspoken conversation filtering between eyes and facial expressions._ _

_ _“So why’s your piece of shit dad holding her hostage then?” Dustin asks, all tact flying out of the door. _ _

_ _“You got proof he’s holding her hostage?” Billy snarks back._ _

_ _“She wasn’t at school!” Mike sneers._ _

_ _“You think that little bitch never played hooky before? She learned everything she knows from the master, kid, what the fuck.” _ _

_ _Steve almost thinks a fight between Billy and the kids is going to break out but Jane steps up into the middle of Billy’s line of sight and silences the room._ _

_ _“Max is scared.” Billy snaps his head to the side, brows going low over his eyes._ _

_ _“How can you see that but I can’t reach her?” He asks, confusion and anxiety clear in his voice. Lucas sucks in a quick breath behind Jane and looks over at Mike sharply. _ _

_ _Steve wishes, desperate, that he could see the entirety of Billy’s face and not just these half glances that Billy is allowing him. Will scoots closer to Billy on the couch, looks like he’s going to reach out but quickly stops himself at Steve’s raised eyebrow. Will shakes his head then points to Jane and Steve almost, almost understands the gesture. _ _

_ _“Don’t know.” Jane shrugs, looks over at Hopper then settles on the floor in front of Billy with her palms stretched out. “Can try to show you?” _ _

_ _For some reason Billy looks back at Steve, makes eye contact for far too long before he nods and reaches his own hands out. Steve looks at the back of his head, flicks his eyes up to meet Hopper’s confused gaze then turns his attention back to the two on the floor. Mike’s making a face, like a sour lemon got stuck under his tongue, Dustin is looking at Steve with his eyebrows raised way up to the middle of his forehead- they’re almost hidden under the lip of his hat. Lucas is entirely focused on Billy’s face, taking in every twitch or hitch in his breathing. _ _

_ _“Maxine.” Billy says cooly, there’s no verbal response but Steve’s been in this position before. Has watched Jane contact someone in the void, heard her side of the conversation but only her side. It’s not as weird as it was the first handful of times that he witnessed it. _ _

_ _“Where are you then?” Billy asks, not cruel but still mean. It shocks Steve, he can see Lucas furrow his brow before he settles it back out. “Why the fuck did he take you there?” He accuses. He gets his answer then he’s snapping his hand out of Jane’s hold and standing up quickly. _ _

_ _“Your plan just might work, Jim.” He sounds exhausted, swipes at his nose then helps Jane stand. He squeezes her shoulder when she gives him a grim smile. He turns to look at Steve and waves for him to stand up. “We’re up, let’s go Harrington. Wheeler! Not you, shitbird, sit down. Wheeler!” He bolts around the corner and into the kitchen to find Nancy._ _

_ _Steve can hear Nancy’s confusion and then Billy shouts Max’s name and then Nancy and Jonathan are following him back into the living room. Steve’s lost his fucking mind, it seems. Everyone else seems to know what the plan is and all Steve gets is his keys thrown at him and a glare from Billy to hurry up. Hopper follows them to the door and tells them he’ll meet them at their spot. _ _

_ _“Okay, Bucks is meeting us there tonight.” Steve says and Hopper takes a minute to think before he nods. “Can someone please tell me what the fuck we’re doing right now?” He knows he sounds like a whiny bitch but Billy’s ignoring him in his haste to get out and Nancy is following Billy too closely which is also freaking Steve out. Hopper settles a heavy hand on Steve’s shoulder and shakes a little._ _

_ _“You’re gonna go get Max and then you’re going to lay the fuck low until you get word to meet at our spot. Don’t let Billy out of your fucking sight, you hear me? Don’t let Nancy kill ‘em either.” Steve huffs a laugh then scowls when Billy honks at him and starts shouting out the window._ _

_ _“Let’s go, princess, don’t make me cop an attitude.” _ _

_ _Steve’s fine, he’s totally okay. Nancy and Jonathan are in the back of the van talking about game plan. What’re they going to do once they get there and all Billy seems to be coming up with is “let me fuckin’ handle it, don’t say shit to my dad, don’t get out of the van.” But Steve’s totally fucking fine. He’s beyond fucking pissed, is what he really is. _ _

_ _“Yeah, so, here’s the thing. Those are all fuckin’ non-options, asshole.” Steve snarls. “You think I’m just going to let you do risky shit on your own? Don’t you fuckin’ know better now?” _ _

_ _“Alls I know is you’re more fuckin’ stupid than I thought you were, Harrington. So willing to follow me fuckin’ everywhere, god damn man.” And it stings, the constant reminder that Steve isn’t smart at all. _ _

_ _So, he uses it to his advantage and slams on the brakes. _ _

_ _“Steve!” Nancy yells but he doesn’t even acknowledge her._ _

_ _“No, mother fucker, I’m not the stupid one here in this moment. You’re too eager to rush in and rush out. We have more than just your safety on the line here. You’re gonna make this a fuckin’ team effort or you can fuck off forever.” _ _

_ _“Harrington, you better fuckin’ drive.” Billy warns._ _

_ _“Oh, sorry, looks like I’m too fucking stupid to even be able to follow your orders anymore. Whoops!” He takes the keys out and tosses them onto the road outside his window. _ _

_ _“Guys, this is really, really stupid-”_ _

_ _“Shut the fuck up, Byers. Harrington thinks he can finally wear his big boy panties.” Billy’s got a sick grin on his face and a darkness in his eyes. Steve almost wants to hit him, almost wants to get hit by him. _ _

_ _“We don’t have time for this pissing contest!” Nancy exclaims. “Pick up the damn keys and let’s get the hell out of here!” _ _

_ _“Well, you see, I’d love to Nance. But someone seems to think I’m too stupid to function and doesn’t wanna share with the class exactly what they have planned. Don’tcha know that’s how people get killed, sunshine?” Steve leans into Billy’s space, pokes him in the chest like he did that night so fucking long ago, and waits him out. He can read Billy’s inner turmoil clear on his face, feels sickly good about the pause that’s there._ _

_ _“My plan is simply to get Max to where it’s safer for her. I plan on doing whatever I gotta fuckin’ do to make that happen. If you don’t wanna be part of that, fine, I’ll hit the road by foot and, what’d you say? Fuck off forever.” He put his hand on the door lever, met Steve’s eyes then waited for his answer. _ _

_ _“That’s all you had to say, you stubborn, arrogant fucking asshole.” Steve sighs heavily, opens his door and snatches the keys from the road. “Like pulling fucking teeth with you, dude, what the fuck.” He grumbles. He refuses to look over at Billy, they’re going to have a long drawn out conversation about this later, Steve’s not going to let him back out. He catches Nancy’s small smile in the mirror and sighs again. _ _

_ _“If you had actually been listening then you would know that that’s exactly what I’d already said, you fucking moron.” Billy snarks but the edge that was there moments before is gone, his shoulders have slumped and he’s glaring out the window instead of at Steve. _ _

_ _“Just-”_ _

_ _“Okay, both of you shut up until we get there and decide what we’re doing.” Nancy says, smacks a small hand to Steve’s shoulder and sniggers to Jonathan. _ _

_ _“Where the fuck are we even going?” _ _

_ _“My grave, again.” Billy says quietly._ _

_ _Steve’s fine with that, he’s totally okay. Never has he ever been better. Alright, no, he’s fucking exhausted. He’s so tired of living the past almost two years in the dark, letting Hopper and Joyce handle the big threats and running away from everything. He’s tired of being on the defense, of living in the shadow of a doubt. He’s tired of panicking about everything, wants to take a stand and end this shit once and for all. He’s tired of trying to be strong for the group of scared ass teens that only get open ended questions instead of answers and solutions. _ _

_ _Billy’s looking at him like he knows exactly what he’s thinking and Steve is praying like virgin to a child that he fucking doesn’t._ _


	13. For fear your grace should fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for Neil Hargrove, homophobia, slurs and hate speech.

Billy didn’t get Steve Harrington. He didn’t understand why Steve got so mad when he could handle his shit on his own, didn’t need to depend on the geek squad for more than a ride. Nancy Wheeler was a last minute decision that he regretted almost immediately. Didn’t understand why Jonathan Byers of all fucking people had to come too. Max was being a pissy little baby when Jane helped him contact her, wanted to talk about the major sunburn she was about to get and not the fact that Neil was making her help him dig up Billy’s plot for a second time that day. Jesus christ, what the fuck was his life anymore? Digging his own grave up, Steve Harrington cuddling him just outside of it, holding hands with a fifteen year old girl to find his loser step-sister. It was almost hysterical if he weren’t so goddamn tired of the shit. 

Steve wouldn’t look at him the entire trip to the cemetery. Billy is fine with that, even though it sits like a boulder in the pit of his stomach and makes him want to puke. He feels bad, knows he’s being an asshole but Max is already so difficult to deal with and his dad on top of everything that’s bothering him right now is just… It’s a lot and Steve doesn’t get that. He ignores the Harrington-esque voice in the back of his head telling him that maybe he should tell Steve about what’s going through his head and maybe then they won’t argue like this. But there’s also the louder voice that sounds like his dad calling him a pussy for thinking anyone could help him. 

It’s real fucking fun to be Billy right now, he almost wishes he could turn himself back into Eddie and get the stone cold silent treatment but without the constant beatings and shit. He almost forgot about Hopper threatening him six ways to Sunday back at the cabin. Told him if he ever put the group at risk like that again that he’d be so dead, no chance of supernatural homecomings, dead as dead can be dead kinda dead. Billy wishes it actually scared him, but his dad has said and done things to him that blew Hopper’s idle threats to Mars. 

He can see Neil’s truck as they’re speeding through the cemetery, sees the cloud of dirt billowing around the plot and Max’s hair flicking like flames in the wind. They’re not even close to hitting the casket and Billy wants to make a joke about how he and Steve got it done faster than the devil himself. He flicks his eyes over and sees Steve’s got a sardonic smile on his face, knows without reaching out that they’re thinking the same thing. The van stops a few feet away, enough distance to haul ass in escape if needed and Billy feels even more like an asshole for calling Steve stupid. Respects the life or death thinking that Steve seems to be all too familiar with, wishes he knew the full extent and not the breezed through version. He figures he’d started to get a taste of it while they were running around like some total dickbags in the lab.

“Wait a few minutes before you get out. He’s not going to expect me to do anything, he’s gonna think I’m gonna wanna come home. He won’t do anything too stupid until I mouth off, all right? Lemme handle him, you just make sure Max gets in this van.” He looks back at Nancy and Byers, nods back to their nods and then stares Steve down.

He still won’t look at him, but he sets his jaw and nods once to affirm Billy. He takes it for what it is, knows that they’re going to have to talk this out eventually. Billy hates to admit it but he’s kinda been enjoying Steve’s company. He’s quiet when he should be and talks even when he shouldn’t be, but it’s easy. It’s calming. It’s really fuckin’ weird. Steve Harrington. The King. He huffs a short breath at the thought as the climbs out to face the music.

He blocks the sun with his hand as he steps forward and tries to meet his dad’s eyes. Blue hot flame to blue hot flame They’ve always been fighting with fire around each other. His mom was always the cool dirt that smothered the embers when it was over, always burned herself to put him out. It was safer that way. Until it wasn’t and she was gone forever. Billy always held that against his father. 

“William?” His father asks, he sounds hesitant, off footed and Billy revels in it until Max snaps her head up and her jaw sets when she flicks her eyes back behind him to the van. 

Billy nods once, hoping Max gets the message to get out of the plot, to get away from Neil slowly but surely. 

“Yeah, old man, it’s me.” He’s gonna let his dad control the conversation, if he wants to play the depressed but reborn father he’s gonna let him. He’s not gonna fall into any traps that he sets, but he’s gonna let him try. 

Neil seems to know he’s willing to play the game because he slowly sets the shovel down and steps in front of Max to keep Billy’s attention. Puts his arms out wide, would almost look comforting if the line of his mouth wasn’t turned down and the fire flickering brightly in his eyes. 

“Why didn’t you come home, son?” He asks, sounds broken, like he was real torn up Billy didn’t run straight to him after tasting freedom. “Been waitin’ for you.” He says it like Billy should know that he was waiting, like Billy should’ve known Neil even had suspicions he wasn’t actually dead. 

“Yeah? How long you been waitin’?” He asks, gruff because he knows Neil expects him to act like a brat. Feeds into the anger always dwelling right under his lungs. Keeps his face blank and his eyes set on his dad while red hair creeps out of the plot behind him. He’s waiting to hear the doors of the van open but it hasn’t happened yet, wants to look behind him to see if Steve is even watching but he knows all eyes are on him, can feel all five sets watching him. Feels like he’s facing off with the devil but he’s already done that once. This feels much trickier than that. 

“Long enough, don’t you think, boy?” His father sets his jaw, Billy feels the electricity in the air. He assumed his dad wouldn’t put hands on him in front of a crowd but he’s made Billy an example to Maxine far too many times so not even that would’ve stopped him. There’s a small hesitation now, it makes Billy pause, catalog his father, then reconsider before moving again.

He steps forward enough to find some shade and actually see his dad clearly. He watches his dad look behind him at the van a few times, his face getting colder and harder the more he glances. He keeps looking at his dad and reaches out mentally, grasps the string that leads to the man below him and tugs gently enough to pull himself to. He’s looking at Nancy Wheeler and Max talking at the back of the van, Nancy jerking her thumb to the back of the van and Max pointing beyond the trees on the other side of Billy. Can’t hear anything they’re saying but he’s reading Neil’s thoughts of anger at the scene. He’s feeling the muscles pulling taut in his shoulders as Neil hauls himself up. He jerks back into himself and shoves his arm across his dad’s chest when he stands straight. Pushes him back into a tree, leans right up into his face and waits for the vitriol to spew from his old man’s mouth.

“I don’t think it’s been long enough. I think this little meetin’ is too soon. But, as it just so turns out, Maxine can’t seem to leave me alone and you, like always, gotta get your stupid ass involved in shit that ain’t for you.” He keeps his voice low, flexes his arm and stares straight into Neil’s eyes.

“William.” His father warns, but it only makes Billy laugh.

“Neil.” He says in the same tone, pushing his arm and grinning wide at the anger flashing across his dad’s face.

“You better get yourself under control now or we’re going to have a problem. You know how I like to solve your problems.” He threatens Billy like it’s second nature, shows just how accustomed to it he’s become, hell, he’s had thirteen years to perfect it. 

Billy can’t help the snigger that bubbles from his lips. 

“Man, you are a piece of work.” He says, voice full of harsh laughter. “You ain’t ever solved any of my problems, you just created more.” He flexes his arm, sees the hesitation in Neil’s face before he goes cold. Colder than Billy’s ever seen, he looks almost dead inside and a small trickle of fear runs down Billy’s spine. 

“I know some things, William. I know the things those people are hiding from.” Neil spits, eyes flicking over Billy’s shoulder then back. “I know where you’ve been and who’s been holding you. I knew what was in your casket before it even went into the ground.” He smirks a bit. “I know you’re holding back right now and it just shows me that alls I really did was raise a fuckin’ pussy.” 

It makes Billy pause enough that Neil shoves him back a few steps and then laughs darkly. Billy can hear steps a few feet behind him, knows without looking that it’s Steve. Hears his breathing and confirms his own self doubt. Can feel Wheeler and Byers a few feet behind them. For some reason, reaching out with his mind feels wrong right now. Feels like giving his asshole father exactly what he wants and Billy’s never been too fond of doing that.

“You let them fuckin’ do his to me?” He snarls, anger dripping from every pore. He hears Steve step closer. He’s back in Neil’s face, shouting and cursing, shoving Neil’s shoulders trying to get his hands up and swinging. Trying desperately to even out the playing field, get some kind of upper hand even if it’s through brute force alone.

“Thought it was the only way to keep you around.” Neil won’t swing, lets himself be pushed and it’s the most frustrating thing. Billy’s so pissed off he can taste it, fell into the game too hard and now he’s crashing on it, showed his hand and lost.

“Like hell you want me around. What was in this for you, huh? They give you some kind of cash reward for donating your only son’s body to some science program?” Billy growls. He’s clenching and unclenching his hands, pushing his heels into the ground. He’s five seconds away from pouncing and going for the jugular. Ice runs through his veins when Neil’s eyes land and stick on Steve behind him.

He almost feels bad for not warning Steve of the kind of minefield his dad really was. He knew as soon as he realized Steve was clinging to him through this that his dad would just love Steve. Would love what it meant that Billy rolled up, fires blazing, with a fucking preppy ass twink nippin’ his heels. He knows, vaguely, what kinda shit is about to start pouring out his old man’s mouth. He wishes he could prevent everything from being said, his hands twitch to wrap around Neil’s throat and just force him to shut up forever. Doesn’t sound like a half bad idea, if the thought of the body count he has already wasn’t there to make him nauseous at the same time.

“Guess Quentin was right when he told me my only son’s a faggot as well.” He smiled meanly at Steve, looked back to Billy and laughed loudly. “And, boy, he’s a real pretty one too, Bill. Shoulda realized you’d have a type. It’s almost damn cute that you need your little faggot boyfriend to help you fight your fights now, even though I was thinkin’ they fixed you in that lab.” 

Absolute fury is pulsing through his body and Billy reaches out, mentally and physically, to grab hold of Neil. He’s got him by the throat, back pushed against the tree again. Max is shouting somewhere behind him but Steve hasn’t stopped him yet so he figures he can push a little harder. Neil’s gasping, eyes flat and looking right into Billy’s core. There’s blood dribbling down his chin and Neil’s getting a little purple in the face, Steve’s standing next to him and reaching out to grab his hand-

“Billy, jesus, fucking stop!” Max is screaming, jerking on his arm and looking at him with wide eyes. He’s scaring her, it’s not the first time and he’s sure it won’t be the last but he’s vulnerable enough now to give in to her and loosen his hand. 

Neil’s gasping on the ground, pounding on the dirt as if that’ll help his lungs expand. Billy’s shocked he raged out like this, knew he was going to fuck up somehow, hands shaking and adrenaline crashing. He’s mid panic when Nancy comes over with some rope and tape. He assumes someone’s taking over for him since he can’t get his brain to function enough to clean his own mess up. They’re hog tying his dad and it’s actually something that would make him laugh but he’s gasping, harshly, echoing in his own ears. He jerks back into a warm chest when even warmer hands land on his shoulders. 

“Hey, hey. It’s me, it’s Steve. Jonathan’s gonna get your dad into the back of the van and Nancy is trying to get Hop on the walkie.” Steve’s standing behind him, he shoulda known that this is the worst way to comfort someone, you don’t sneak up behind people what the actual fuck Harrington?

Steve’s hands are traveling from Billy’s shoulders and down his arms, they pull his fingers out of fists and then make their way back up his shoulders. He’s breathing evenly and Billy feels himself drifting back into his own head again as he matches the pace, the burn in his lungs lessening but not evaporating soon enough for his liking. He still feels like he’s choking. He doesn’t feel like he could open his mouth much less talk, so he jerks his shoulders softly to let Steve know he’s here and he’s listening. Steve keeps breathing deeply and evenly behind him. Soon enough his vision clears, nothing else is blurry in panic, his dad is gone and Max is watching him carefully a few paces away. 

“He knew.” Billy croaks to Max, leans a little on Steve to get him to move his hands again. “Does your mom know?” He asks, his voice is wrecked and cracking. 

“No, she never- well, I guess she wouldn’t- she never talked about you like Neil did.” Max said quietly. “We thought he was just goin’ crazy, he talked about you like you were coming home. Every day it was some new story about how you’d come home and he’d be a better father than he ever was.” She showed her anxiety by making these hopeless motions with her hands, she reaches up to smooth the hairline above her forehead. Then she brushes her fingers up, bring them back down to the root and move up again, while she looks off into the distance, breathing fast while she talks. He’s always read her better than any book.

Billy chokes on a laugh, disbelief blinding him. Steve pulls him to his chest again, it’s too much for Billy so he gives up trying to focus on conversation and lets Steve direct him back to the van. He can’t bring himself to turn and look behind the seats at Neil, can hear his muffled shouting and Nancy telling him to shut up or she’d tase him. Everything after the cemetery is a blur. They meet Hopper somewhere, it looks close to the cabin but also looks nothing like the woods around the cabin. He thinks it No Man’s Land, but isn’t sure. Only remembers how drunk he got at parties out here, never what it actually looked like. 

Hopper’s threatening Neil, voice low and noses almost touching. Hopper’s not giving Neil any room to pull any shit. Neil’s got a big bruise forming around his right eye, Hopper’s got the matching twitch in his fingers from the strike. Max is still sitting in the van, close enough that Billy can see her but far enough that he still feels like he has his own space. She’s always known Billy’s boundaries, took forever to learn them in California, but she knew him better than he realized. They’re staring out the window at Hopper trying to pull information from Neil, Steve is standing between the van and Neil like it’d do him a whole lotta good trying to jump between Billy and his dad. He’s calmed down enough to feel the bone weary exhaustion, feels wrecked and loaded at the same time. Thinks about long nights with cocaine, times he wanted to stop yoyoing and be sober. Some reason he’s sitting in bum fuck Indiana and thinking about the time he yelled at himself, in a mirror in Adam Griffen’s bathroom, to sober the fuck up. It was a real bad night, he used to say it was the worst night of his life, seems like it wasn’t the worst night anymore.

He slides out of the van, waves a hand at Max when she tries to ask him what he’s doing. She was always ratting on him in the most obvious ways, asking questions too loud or making assumptions in other conversations. Billy learned the best way to avoid Max getting him in trouble was to piss her off and make her ignore him. It helped that it was so easy to do, that he knew the right buttons to push and the worst things to say. He guesses that’s just one of the many things that got passed down in his blood from his dad. His ironclad will to fuck things up. He makes his way to the man of the hour, stands just behind Hopper and pushes with his head. 

He’s filtering through the mundane thoughts, Neil’s purposefully going through Susan’s grocery list and the list he has to give the mechanic when he drops her car off on Tuesday. He’s smart for keeping his mind occupied, but Billy doesn’t need the permission to slip deeper. He’s looking for any trace of Eddie Dominique, any giant black shadow monster that’s tried to take him down before. It feels like acid reflux, like he’s chugged a few bottles of chlorine again, to see Eddie’s smiling face in his dad’s mind. He decides he’s gonna fuck with his dad real good, seems like this might be his only chance to really hammer it home how fucked up his dad made him feel. 

So he shows his dad a beach, the memory comes so easy to him that every detail is flawless, the waves are crashing and the birds are chirping and the sun is bright but not warm. It’s a cold memory now, he’s lost his attachment to it the moment his father tarnished it. Jane saw the good memories. He hears his father gasp, the memory rolls on in their heads like an old time film. His father comes into scene and snatches Billy up out of the sand, hand vice tight around his small arm. He was only six and it was two months before his mom died. She wanted to go to the beach, the headscarf she had chosen that day was white and blue with yellow birds on it. She glowed in the light, skin so pale and gaunt. Billy missed his daycare school because she wanted to go to the beach. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His father shouts in the memory. “What the fuck are you doing with my son? Do I need to call the hospital again? You know you can’t do this. He doesn’t need to see you like this.” His mom was too sick to be able to argue much back, mostly just waved him off. He slapped her twice the week she died. Billy brings up a memory of Neil dragging him around the house in California by his hair when he was eleven, it was when he first started growing it out. His dad was yelling that he looked too much like his mother, did he want to be a fuckin’ sissy boy? No son of his was ever going to be respected with sissy boy hair. He took Billy out into the yard and shaved his head for the neighbors to see.

That got child services involved and Neil quickly learned the lesson that a closed door policy was strictly needed. He shows his dad the night he beat Billy in front of Max. It was three days before he started working at the pool and his boss had told him if he ever came to work busted up like that again they’d have to let him go. He caught Max and Lucas together at the arcade but it was supposed to be Billy’s responsibility to keep them separated even though he was recently graduated and employed and ignoring Maxine and her rat pack as much as he fucking could. 

He flickers through all of this in a matter of seconds but it feels like years. He’s watching his dad gasp up to the sky, he won’t meet Billy’s gaze and Hopper’s smacking his face trying to get his attention again.

“Get- get the fuck outta my head, William!” His father crows, jerking against his binds and away from Hopper. He falls onto his back with a loud grunt but Billy’s still looking for something so he only takes a breath and keeps digging.

He gives a quiet laugh when Neil still attempts to deflect, thinks it’s hilarious that his dad starts thinking of even more mundane things as if that prevents him access. If he knew that Billy was holding back then why was he the one acting like a pussy now? There’s an edge to some memories. A fight in a conference room, papers flying through the air around Neil and Eddie, scuffling as Neil grabs him by his lapels and marches him until he’s leaning him over the table and explaining ‘my son, my business. You tell me first before you go on with the next step.’ Phone calls at three in the morning about secret progress reports, Susan accusing him of sleeping around on her, chasing shadows around Hawkins when Eddie went awol for two weeks, hearing the rumors about some abandoned building out in the woods being haunted, hearing more rumors that Billy Hargrove was spotted running around the quarry by Jake Adams in Max’s grade.

He sees long nights, Susan sleeping alone, his dad driving to the quarry every night. He reads his dad’s thoughts like a word processor, sees them all in black and white like the newspaper. His dad didn’t think about Billy in the sense of worrying about what happened to him, he thought about Billy like he was waiting for someone to come back from vacation. Like when Billy came back all the problems Neil was deflecting would find someone else to pile onto. It pissed him off so bad he broke the connection and stared down at his old man for a few long seconds.

“You let them do this to me and acted like I was at some kinda summer camp.” Billy’s voice is low, not threatening but carefully blank. “You treated it like you finally got your way and sent me to boot camp.” 

“It was the only way I could actually handle what they were doing.” Neil said, his tone sounded like he was pleading with Billy for something but Billy didn’t feel kind enough to fill in the blanks for him. 

“And how’d you think I would handle it?” He asks, honestly wishes he didn’t want to know the answer. He has a feeling he knows the answer all too well, has felt the answer as a backhanded slap or a kick to the stomach, knows the answer will hurt him more than free him but he still needs to know. Must be a glutton for pain and shame because he feels so violently sick at the look in Neil’s eye when he refuses to answer the question. 

“You never had a choice.” Neil’s voice is cold, so cold that even Hopper freezes in place from where he’d been looking between them. “It was you or the kid.” He makes eye contact with Hopper and then looks back over to Billy. “They wanted her more’n you, you were just some used up vessel to them. She already had what they were looking for.” 

Billy shuts his eyes and sinks, looking for Jane. He finds her, sees her confused face when she looks at him.

“You safe?” He asks her, doesn’t want to say anything else with the crowd around him. She reaches out and grabs his wrist before she nods. “Okay.” Billy says, hears her repeat it and then he’s blinking back to himself. He nods once at Hopper and turns his sights back to his father.

“I’m gonna leave your fate up to the good chief here. If it were up to me you’da been put down in that plot with that monster and it’d be the end of it with you.” He says it like he’s doing his father a huge favor. He hates how it sounds, rolling off his tongue, sickly sweet. The threat of death was something he used to be so terrified of, turns out dying and coming back worse than before does things to you. Turns out being held prisoner and becoming someone’s wack job science experiment makes murder feel like taking candy from a baby and not a capital sin. He’s trying to learn the grey area, but a grey area has never really existed for him before and he’s not sure how to create it on his own. Fights the rolling waves of nausea down to keep himself present.

He doesn’t stay to listen to whatever crock of shit Neil’s trying to throw at him now, honestly wants nothing more than to curl up under some blankets and sleep for five years. He can’t bring himself to look at Steve, or even Max. In fact the only person he can stomach to look at is Nancy fuckin’ Wheeler and she’s watching Hopper so intently that Billy gets nauseous from that too. Instead of getting back into the front of the van with Max he decides to walk the small path that leads to the river. They’re definitely in No Man’s Land, he remembers pushing Tommy into this river at least five times in one night when they were tripping acid together and Carol was bitching because they didn’t save any for her. 

It’s getting darker now, sun a haunting memory lingering around the trees. He sees headlights and bolts back to the van, on edge immediately and ready to throw down if need be. His luck has always had a way of fucking him over more than he could imagine, so he was getting ready for the absolute worst case scenario. Neil must’ve had a locator chip in him somewhere, Eddie and the Mind Flayer were about to roll up and fuck everything to hell again. Instead Steve Harrington’s old BMW pulls up and a dirty blonde girl gets out from behind the wheel.

“Holy fucking shit.” She says at him, eyes bigger than saucers and entirely focused on him. “Holy shit, you’re alive.” He has no fuckin’ clue who this chick is, knows his face is settling into something mean, can feel the sour words forming on his tongue. 

“Worst kept secret of Hawkins, sweetheart.” He snarks, crossing his arms over his chest but keeps his shoulders broad, keeps himself firm in his defensive posture that he almost thinks he looks threatening. 

Suddenly, Steve is around the side of the van, footsteps stuttering as he takes the girl in and then bolts to her. They spend a minute hugging, Steve’s arms locked firmly around her shoulders, long enough to make Billy feel that swoop in his stomach that tells him he shouldn’t be paying attention to this. If Harrington wants to hug his girl he should be able to do it in peace, without Billy overlooking and possibly making things awkward. He feels trapped in a bad way, one side dealing with Neil and the other stuck watching Harrington get emotional over a girl. Neither of these scenes are anything Billy thought he’d ever have to witness in his life, yet here he is. Stuck in the middle. He thinks about his mom singing that song when she made him breakfast on sundays. Misses those times so much it aches painfully in his chest. 

He wishes he could focus again, wishes it didn’t take everything in him not to melt down right there. Wishes he could laugh again, feel the sun on his face and know that the salty ocean water would carry him home. He wishes he could talk to his mom, thinks about how she used to hold him so tight and make him feel like nothing in the world could ever hurt them. Now he’s the monster sleuthing around in the world, hurting people and fueling nightmares. He didn’t realise his feet were moving until he blinks up and sees the massive tree before him. There’s ropes hanging down to his waist, swings that have decayed from the weather. He’s caught in this twilight, can feel the rift inside him match the rift in the world. The tree is split down the middle but covered in branches and leaves. It’s divine, how broken and healed it is at the same time. 

“We used to come out here as kids, when Mike still considered following me around cool.” Nancy says quietly, shocking Billy and making him jump slightly. “This tree is older than Hawkins.” She says it thoughtfully, Billy can see the memories playing out across her face without having to reach inside her head. “Sophie Bruener broke her arm here when we were twelve. We both got grounded for, like, three months.” There’s a small smile playing at her lips and Billy might not know who she’s talking about but he can see two girls chasing each other around the tree before one trips on a gigantic root sticking out from the ground and wailing painfully, feels the memory as if it were his own. Blinks back to himself but Nancy wasn’t looking at him, he spends a few seconds panicking that he can’t control himself anymore and attempts to talk himself into thinking he’s just too tired and that’s why he’s slipping.

She looks over at Billy and then back up to the tree. He wishes his mind were collected enough to make a witty comment, wishes he knew how to have conversations that weren’t him being smarmy to get what he wanted. He feels so emotionally vulnerable right now that he doesn’t trust his tongue enough to open his mouth, might just spill all his secrets. He thinks Nancy would take it, the burden of knowing Billy too well, but he doesn’t think he could handle Nancy Wheeler thinking they were close or something. 

“I know- well, I don’t know anything, really.” She sighs, uses a hand to flatten down the baby hairs around her ear. “I don’t know how you’re feeling or what you’re thinking. I don’t know anything about who you are now, I guess I didn’t know anything about who you were either.” She scoffs at herself. 

Billy waits her out, exhausted and broken. He can’t bring himself to spew vitriol like he would before, can’t even find an attitude to hold onto. He waits Nancy Wheeler out and he doesn’t exactly hate every second of it. She’s warm and quiet, two things he appreciates the most right now. Soft when she finally speaks again.

“I wish things had been different before it got to this.” Her voice isn’t laced with regret, it isn’t sad or disappointed. It’s a simple statement. “At least you’re here now.” She makes it feel like instead of everything splintering apart, hurting and breaking worse than before, there’s a chance of hope here. She looks up at him, eyes round and showing more emotion than Billy’s ever seen on her snooty face. 

“Small mercies.” He says, just as quiet as she was and he feels warmth bloom in his chest when she huffs a laugh.

“Small mercies.” She agrees, looking back up to the tree. 

There’s a sharp snapping sound behind them and he turns quickly to see Steve and the new girl walking towards them. They’re talking quietly, the girl’s face is screwed up and Steve is throwing his hands around while he’s talking, trying to explain as much as he can without smacking someone in the face. 

“Hey, Nance.” The girl greets, smiling wryly and then meeting Billy’s gaze. 

“Robin.” Nancy smiles with it, like there’s a joke going around here and Billy squints his eyes at the three around him. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Billy asks, voice blank. He shoots a glare at Steve when he chokes on a laugh, almost makes an elephant noise in his attempt to seal it. 

“Steve’s lord and savior, Robin Buckley. I already know who the fuck you are, so let’s just dive into, eh?” 

There’s a commotion behind Robin and Billy leans around her to watch Hopper pick Neil up and drag him off toward the small river, Neil kicking and shouting the entire way while Hopper’s got his Rambo face on. 

“Dive into what?” He asks, still watching Hopper cart off his dad. 

“You still got that shadow demon inside of you?” She starts ticking off her fingers, Billy knows she’s gonna be fun to deal with. “What the fuck were you thinking coming back here and endangering everyone? You have powers now? Like Jane powers? Can you control them or are you a walking talking time bomb? You gonna haul off and punch Steve’s lights out again?” 

“No, I don’t know, yes, yes, you weren’t even around when that happened so you don’t get to question me about it.” He counts his fingers off to match hers, makes sure he keeps his voice bored. “That answer it?” 

Robin gets in his face, Billy doesn’t even bother masking the absolute disregard he has for her right now. She looks into his eyes for what feels like years on end before she says “yup” pops the ‘p’ and everything, then turns to Steve. 

“You really weren’t kidding.” 

“Yup.” Steve repeats while shoving his hands into his pockets. “Have I ever lied to you?” 

The look Robin settles him with almost makes Billy laugh, almost. He’s good about keeping his face blank and his eyes set in the woods away from the group around him. He’s caught in his head again, paying attention to what he’s feeling instead of processing what he’s thinking. Reaching out with his mind and counting energies, a reflexive habit that calms him when he needs it most. He doesn’t notice when Nancy slinks off with Robin and he’s left alone with Steve. He feels like he’s wearing a veil, it’s dark enough to barely see the ground where they are but still light enough that Billy can make out Steve’s face when he blinks over to him. Can see the frown between his brows, shrinks back from the intensity of Steve’s gaze, doesn’t know if he can handle another in depth conversation right now. He thinks he’s had enough of the emotional manipulation for a day, ready to curl into the fetal position and scream if anyone so much as asks how he’s handling things right now. 

Steve must be getting the message because he grabs Billy’s wrist gently and brings him back over to the van and the small group waiting for Hopper’s direction. Max looks at them, worries her lip between her teeth, nods once and then looks towards Nancy and Robin. By the time Hopper drags Neil back into the ring of lights the van is putting off they’re both soaked and shivering. 

“Neil and I are going back to the Hargrove’s. Tell Joyce and Murray to meet me there. I want all of you back to the spot, not a single person leaves there unless it’s an absolute emergency. You got me? Not. A. Single. One.” He points, with his pointer and pinky fingers, at Billy and Steve then Robin and Jonathan. Max and Nancy nod, both too calm and too responsible for Billy’s tastes. “I will radio in if I need anything and when I’m heading back.”

So Hopper commandeers the BMW with a little resistance from Robin while everyone else piles into the van. Billy and Max take the very back, knees bumping and hands pushing to make room. Billy warns her off of him a few times, smacking her hands when she tries to reach out to him. Wheeler and Byers sit in front of them, smirking at Billy’s mumbled protests of Max touching him. He doesn’t want to think about Steve sitting in the driver’s seat, looking over and making moon eyes at Robin while telling her about things that happened while he was out on the road. Doesn’t want to think about Robin hanging on his every word and laughing at his stories like she actually enjoys them. 

Jane and Will are waiting on the steps outside, it kinda throws Billy through a loop that Wheeler isn’t there, isn’t making some bitchy face at them rolling up and stealing Jane’s attention. Billy doesn’t hesitate to throw the back door open and jump out. He walks purposefully past Jane, softly squeezes her shoulder at her small smile, ignores the group piled all over the living room and heads straight for the bedroom he’d been staying in. He feels shaken up now, like a live wire that’s gotten wet. Doesn’t think he could fall asleep but sure as shit can’t handle being around any of the kids. He throws the covers back, strips down to his boxer shorts and tries to smother himself in the sheets. Feels restless and achy, like he used to when his legs were growing. A soreness that he can’t massage out of his muscles, has to take just like every other pain right now. He gives up on sleep pretty quickly, instead grabs sweatpants and a shirt from his bag and heads to the shower.

Steve intercepts him before he gets entirely through the bathroom door. He takes one look into Billy’s eyes then he shoves him gently into the bathroom and closes the door behind them. He turns the shower on, sets it almost to the hottest the water can get and Billy wonders if that’s a Steve thing as well or if he knows that’s exactly how Billy needs it. He wants to feel like his skin might just peel off and show the monster underneath, wants to see how fast he can heal right over it again. Wants to burn without setting himself on fire, might just hand the igniter to Steve in the meantime. 

“Believe it or not, but I do know how to shower, Harrington.” He wishes he had some insight on how to walk along boundary lines with Steve. Wish he knew his own triggers enough to recognize when someone might need his presence for themselves instead of him taking advantage of present situations. He’s lived his life being the snake, never the mouse. He feels small like a mouse now. 

Steve snorts and then shakes his head. 

“Just- let me?” He asks, sounds like he’s trying hard not to think about what he’s doing and Billy might just give it to him, might let someone be selfish with him for the millionth time this week, might enjoy Steve’s selfishness. Steve feels like the snake.

“Well, if it’s entirely selfish on your part I just might.” He leers, puts his face closer to Steve’s then leans away quick when he only quirks an eyebrow at Billy. He wouldn’t mind being completely naked in front of Steve, it’s a situation he’s been in before in the gym showers but this feels too personal. Not a quick game of cat and mouse, where the mouse lives in the end due to it’s quick thinking. Feels like Billy’s handing his life over on a silver platter and Steve is licking his lips in anticipation.

He keeps his shorts on and sits directly under the hot water. Can’t bring himself to watch Steve strip, thinks that might create some more danger. The white panels separating the wooden walls from the shower walls are sorta dingy, there’s a rust ring around the drain and it makes the water look murky. He’s thinking about portals to other worlds and the girl by the swimming pool instead of the half naked boy sitting a hardly safe distance away from him. Billy moves forward, still under the water directly but allowing some streams to find Steve. He keeps his shoulders hunched up to his ears, back pulled taut to hold himself together. He’s starting to question why he allowed Steve to do this, can’t relax with the eyes that flicker over him every few seconds. 

He’s a mouse trapped under the much too watchful gaze of the snake, feels like both of them are waiting for the other to make the first move. 

“You really freaked me out today, man.” Steve says it like he’s talking to a dead man. Billy guesses that, in a sense, he is. “I’d never- I didn’t... christ, you were so-” he sucks in a quick breath, hisses it out through his teeth. “I’m not judging you.” 

“Didn’t think ya were.” He’s questioning himself, why this moment has to happen like this. They couldn’t go sit outside or somethin’? It had to be in the shower? He rolls his head and looks down at himself, the silver white scars crisscrossing all over him, his arms and hands, ribs and hips. The dents have healed better than he thought they would originally, remembers the scabs and sores they were before his skin regenerated. He’s kinda intrigued and disgusted. 

“God, I thought we lost you to the dark side there for like five whole minutes.” Steve says, sheer relief in his voice and Billy lets out a rough chuckle. 

“Man, you really comparin’ this shit to Star Wars right now?” He lets his voice go deeper, feels the tension as it fills the air and can’t seem to find a way to break it. He can hardly focus on his own breathing, too caught up in being hyper aware of Harrington behind him. 

“Can you like- can you tell me what I can do when you get to that point to pull you back without- without it being, like, bad?” He’s killing Billy slowly with his soft tones and concerning questions.

“I only ever been that way towards my old man.” He tightens his shoulders, didn’t realize when he had relaxed them slowly. “Hopefully we ain’t gotta deal with that again. Seemed like Hopper had ‘im on a decent sized leash.” 

“Yeah.” Steve sighs behind him. “I’m sorry for freaking out on you earlier, but I feel like I was justified in doing so. You were being a real asshole.” He says it so matter of fact that Billy smiles to himself over it. Says it like he’s telling Billy about a special flavor of ice cream that day, completely confident in his pitch. 

“I’m sorry for- for all that, uh, shit my dad was sayin’.” He hates how bashful he sounds when he says it, feels too childish for the real life situations they’ve been facing. He doesn’t feel weak for being this vulnerable, doesn’t know why or when he started trusting Steve with him like this. 

“Why would your dad say something like that?” He asks, voice so quiet he’s almost whispering.

“You really wanna know?” Billy asks bluntly, he doesn’t know if he could break his biggest secret down so easily to someone he’s still not entirely sure he can trust. He knows that this is a monumental piece of who he is but he’s lost so much of himself the last two years that he’s unsure if he wants to give this away. 

He doesn’t give Steve a chance to answer before he blurts out “and I guess I’m sorry for calling ya stupid.” 

“Oh, that all?” Steve teases, Billy turns to look at him and feels like he’s facing a line he’s unsure of crossing. Steve has a small smile on his face, he’s leaning against the corner of the shower, just looking at Billy. It feels like staring right into the snake’s eyes. It would almost be unnerving if it didn’t make him feel so warm. Billy’s spent the last almost two years feeling like prey. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t exactly feel like it with Harrington’s eyes on him now. 

His eyes drift from Steve’s face and catch on the moles decorating his throat and shoulders. Counts the moles from his clavicles to his chest, passes over his chest hair quickly to prevent himself from staring too long, stops at the ones smattered across his ribs to his stomach and above the elastic of his shorts. Holds his breath for the count of ten and then trails his eyes over pale thighs covered in thin dark hairs, strong but slender calves and wide but bony feet with long, lean toes. Steve is so effortlessly pretty that Billy can’t seem to properly catch his breath for a few seconds. He can tell Steve notices because his face turns to concerned fast.

“Hey, where’d you go?” Steve nudges his hip with the foot closest to Billy and he jolts slightly. “Sorry.” Steve says quickly.

“Ah, no uh, no need to apologize. Just, the day crashing on me I guess.” He turns back towards the wall and then gives up entirely. He can’t bring himself to face Steve straight on so he turns to face the glass shower door, swipes his fingers in the steam collected there just to disrupt something. Something small and inconsequential that won’t hurt him for messing with it. 

“You good enough to talk to me about some things or you done with me entirely today?” He almost sounds like he expects Billy to lash out again about emotional conversations and Billy feels like he should but he also feels like he owes Steve for how he acted today. He doesn’t know how to tell him that he doesn’t think he could ever be entirely done with him now, is still trying to process that without freaking out too much. 

“We can talk.” He says simply, doesn’t feel relaxed enough to fall asleep yet, doesn’t quite feel like leaving Steve’s company either.

“Okay, so, obviously things with your dad are- not all right. Has it always been bad?” He sounds like he’s walking on broken glass, like he knows the answers are as loaded as the question but he still needs to know the cold hard truth. 

“He was okay when my Ma was still kinda healthy.” Billy leans his head back, left side of his face taking the brunt of the running water, blinks hard a few times before he looks over to Steve. “Wasn’t ‘til she got sick that he got… bad.”

He sighs heavily and Steve waits him out, knows there’s more coming but Billy just needs some time to push through it. 

“She died before I turned seven. He was always a real hard ass with me. Wasn’t too bad ‘til I turned eleven. Then it was like… a switch flipped in ‘im and my dad just wasn’t the same.” It’s the most honest he’s been about his dad to someone other than Max. Though Billy didn’t say that his dad would beat the shit out of him for the first time after he buzzed Billy’s head, left him gasping on the floor of the mudroom and then look him to Dairy Queen to get ice cream. Didn’t tell Steve about all the times his dad got too drunk midday and told Billy he looked too much like his mom, then continued to drag him around the house like he did to her.

He knows Steve gets the message without needing the gory details, hopes Steve won’t try to drag it all out of him tonight. His face says he expected more gory details though, shit he’s heard from Max was probably too dramatic without Billy being there to correct her. Steve chews on his lip for a few long seconds before he nods once, message loud and clear that Billy won’t get too deep into this subject. Just enough to answer Steve’s questions and move on.

“Why did you leave California, Billy?” He sounds like he’s keeping his own voice from his words, like he’s reserved himself enough to allow Billy the space to speak of these things that keep rattling around his head. 

“I, uh, I got in with some friends he didn’t like.” He thinks he can get away without saying the real reason by being vague but can’t remember the story Neil had made up when they moved here for the life of him. “I got into some trouble with them, almost got sent to juvie, said some really nasty shit to Susan when she came to pick me up. He kicked my ass six ways to sunday.” 

He only looks at Steve from the corner of his eye, can see from his face that he knows he’s not getting the whole story but can also tell that Steve doesn’t look like he’s willing to push on this. Billy’s a little grateful, doesn’t think he could lay himself completely bare even if it is only to Steve Harrington. 

“I’m sure you got somethin’ else you wanna talk about.” He keeps his voice low, makes it seem like this isn’t eating away at him, nudges Steve towards safer conversations.

“When this whole thing started, after you died, I started seeing your dad like, fucking, everywhere. I went from seeing him maybe once a week to seeing him everyday. We didn’t, like, talk or anything but I always noticed when he was comin’ around.” Steve wipes a hand down his face, pushes the same hand back up and into his hair. “The one time I didn’t see him was the day I got fake arrested. Now I guess I know why.” 

Billy isn’t sure how he’s supposed to respond to that, doesn’t think there’s a valid answer for him to give anyways so he waits for Steve to start back up again. Watches him from his side of the shower, the small frown between his brows and the downward curve of his mouth.

“We can’t keep arguing the way we kinda have been, man, it’s not helping us at all. I don’t want to argue with you, honestly. I think that surprises me the most because it’s always been so easy to get too riled up with you.” 

Billy digests this, doesn’t allow himself to find hidden meanings, takes it for face value. Steve’s been open about his need for being a team throughout anything they’ve done, about needing to know that Billy was going to back him up when push came to shove. 

“Being a dick is what I’m good at, my special talent.” He says and smirks when Steve snorts a laugh. “Not tryin’ to fuck with y’alls team building shit, I’m just used to doin’ shit on my own.” 

“Guess I’m just gonna have to keep reminding you that you’re not alone anymore then.” 

Steve does this thing where he says stuff that’s so emotionally powered without even batting an eyelash. Billy couldn’t even tell Max she looked nice when she got her fuckin’ haircut when summer started, much less look someone in the eyes and tell ‘em he wasn’t gonna give up on them. It always takes the breath right out of Billy, makes him choke on air and splutter like an absolute moron. This time, though, he just rolls his head on his shoulders to look at Steve. The water is turning cold by this point, but Billy almost can’t feel it with how he’s trapped under Steve’s gaze. It feels electric, almost dangerously so. He licks his lips while he watches as Steve looks down at his chest and ribs. 

“You scars look a lot better than I imagined they would.” 

It feels like another Steve Harrington Bombshell moment. He just admitted he’d thought about what Billy’s body would look like after taking on the Mind Flayer and he’s momentarily gutted, can’t find the words to turn this back to safer ground.

“You think about what they’d look like often?” He asks, voice like gravel. Steve won’t quite meet his eye and there’s a soft pink blush across his cheeks and going down to his chest. 

“Uh, what? What, no, not like that, uhhh-” he cuts himself off, still refusing to look at Billy and his blush growing darker. Billy almost wants to laugh, almost wants to cry. 

“Whatever man, they’re still fuckin’ ugly.” Billy gives him the out, doesn’t want to be responsible for breaking Steve Harrington’s little mind. 

Steve opens his mouth, his brows furrowed like he’s hearing someone talk politics and can’t keep up, but the banging at the door prevents him from saying anything.

“Okaaaay, asshole, you better keep some hot water for the rest of us!” Max yells through the door. 

“It’s already gone, Maxine.” Billy calls out lazily, smile playing on his lips as she curses him, mind, body and soul. “Watch yer fuckin’ language you goddamn punk.” He shouts when she starts getting more creative with her swears. Billy’s never been called a cum slinging dumpster fire before, he’s not super interested in adding it to the long list of names he’s mentally kept track of. 

Steve gives a small smile to their antics and then stands to turn the water off. 

“Guess our shower confessional session is over. Praise the lord, amen, or whatever the fuck.” He says, grabbing a towel then handing one off to Billy. Billy tries so hard not to watch him wrap the towel around his waist before he slides his wet shorts off.

“Ten hail Mary’s and a youth counseling session for the over abundance of sinful language.” Billy says, almost without thinking, as he dries himself off and then grabs his clothes off the small counter. 

Steve’s laugh sounds a little shocked but he gives a two finger salute as he opens the bathroom door and disappears behind it. Billy looks at himself in the small mirror and winces a little. He hates looking at the scars, hates the reminder that his time is probably even more borrowed than it was before he died. Feels a sick swoop in his stomach and then turns to face the wall to change. 

Max is waiting in the hall for him, arms crossed over her chest and eyebrows meeting her hairline. Billy curses mentally, keeps the towel over his face even though his hair isn’t even long enough to need extra drying. The absolute last person he wants to talk to about anything Steve related is Maxine.

“So-” she starts, mouth opening way to god damn big and voice coming out too loud. 

“Don’t.”

“But-”

“Can you not hear? Don’t.”

“That was really-”

“Maxine, fuckin’ knock it off.” 

“I’m not goin’ to say anything bad, jesus. Steve’s… alright. You could do better.”

“Jesus fuckin’ christ. You are so wrong.” He rolls his eyes, feels her trailing him as he treads back into the bedroom. Counts down from ten, does it three times before he looks back over at Max.

“Anyways, what do you think Hopper is doing with your dad?” She’s taking her boney fingers over the edge of the bed posts, her face flickering between wide eyed glances at him and anxious ticks. 

“Dunno.” He says simply, thinks about his dad and can’t bring himself to think of an actual punishment or use for the man. “Hopefully something productive.” 

She rolls her eyes at him and clenches a thin hand over one of the posts. “I can’t believe he was involved in this.” She looks at Billy for a few long seconds then changes her mind. “Weeeeeell, I guess that’s not entirely true. He was always so hard on you, guess he still would be even with this shit.” 

“Maxine.” Billy says shortly. “Why the fuck do we have to talk about this now?”

“Oh, sorry, did Steve tire you out in the shower?” She snarks back to him, her face screwing up like a goblin and it would make him laugh if he wasn’t so tired. 

“Man, just shout it a little louder you goddamn heathen.” He rolls his eyes up to the ceiling and then sits in the bed. “I’m passin’ out, you gotta go.”

Max just smiles passively at him, to the point that it starts to creep him out and he turns the lamp off to avoid seeing that expression on her face any longer. 

“We’ll talk in the morning, Billy.” She sing-songs creepily, chortles out a laugh when he tosses the extra pillow at her head. 

“Get out, shitbird.” She laughs at him again but there’s the sound of the door closing behind her so he knows he’s safe to himself again. 

His body is nice enough to allow him to sleep as soon as he settles in the bed but not kind enough to keep the dreams away. Big brown eyes looking up at him, but the face changes from Steve to Heather, words half formed falling from their lips to make discombobulated sentences. Heather’s mouth is bloody and she coughs out black goo with every deep breath she takes, it makes him want to cry or reach out. She’s trying to warn him but every time she gets a few words out Steve’s yelling over her in an attempt to wake him up. Every chance he gets to reach out it seems like his arms get shorter and Heather gets farther away. He feels like he’s in the void, in that empty space with water between his toes, looking at nothing and hearing nothing but feeling everything. Heather and Steve are gone, he’s alone and it’s unearthly, it’s almost terrifying how alone he is here. 

He starts calling out for Heather, trying to bring her back by sheer force of will alone. She’s still talking, still attempting to get a message to him but he can’t piece it together. Her words are messy and mispronounced, said in the wrong order. Ten feet left and six feet under, Steve says. Factory home gone back tonight, Heather says. He’s stuck in the void and brown eyes are looking back at him but it’s not Steve or Heather. He snaps his head around in search of the two when Jane materializes in front of him. Jane lifts a hand up and pokes the middle of his forehead and Billy jolts up in bed to ten pairs of eyes watching him, mostly cautiously. Jane still has her hand on his forehead and he reaches up to hold her wrist while he meets her eyes. 

“You were screaming. Felt pain.” She says quietly, eyes flicking quickly between Billy’s wide blue ones. “Heather isn’t there, couldn’t see who you were talking to.” Behind her Jonathan and Nancy start ushering the kids out of the room, Robin gives Billy a weird look before looking at Steve and walking out after them. Max, Steve and Jane are circling the bed, a face every where he looks. 

“I don’t- I don’t know what that was?” He croaks out, looks to Steve. “Were you asleep? Was that like before?” 

Steve shakes his head slowly, hand at his mouth for a few seconds before looking into Billy’s eyes. “No, I was smoking with Robin. We weren’t even in the cabin.” 

So that means either someone got them or Billy was really fuckin’ screaming his head off. Max’s wide, wet eyes fill his vision and he releases Jane’s wrist in order to push Max back a step. 

“So someone else can get in my fuckin’ head?” He asks, not really aiming the question at anyone but needing to hear himself say it. “You ever been in there while you was sleepin’?” He asks Jane, eyes flicking across her face while she thinks about it.

“No.” She says shortly. “Doesn’t work like that for me.” 

“Great.” Billy grunts, flings the blanket off himself and grabs the hoodie he had hanging off the post by his pillow. He shoves his feet into his boots, pushes out of the room while ignoring the hush that falls on the group in the living room and grabs the pack of smokes and lighter that Hopper left for him by the door. He sits down hard on the rickety front stairs, pulls smoke until his lungs ache. 

All the panic and stress from the moment he woke up in the lab until now settles between his shoulders, feels like an ice pick trying to jimmy his ribs apart. He counts the seconds to keep himself from a full blown meltdown. The one person that can even relate to how he’s feeling is some fuckin’ kid, who shouldn’t even have to worry about fuckin’ monsters or crazy powers. A kid, that’s his supernatural support system, jesus. He jerks back to reality when the door slams shut behind him and a notepad finds its way onto his lap.

“So let’s do some recon.” He wanted to groan out loud over the lisp that met his ears and the curly hair that nearly smacked him in the face as Henderson sat down next to him. The kid snatched the notepad back and withdrew a pen from the pouch of his hoodie. “Things Billy Can Do With His Mind versus Things Billy Can’t Do With His Mind.” 

When Billy looked over at the paper to see if the kid was really titling it that he saw “sleep” in the second column. Fuckin’ smart ass kids. 

“What the fuck, Derrick? You think this is some kinda joke er somethin’?” Billy wishes he was actually annoyed.

“We both know you know my name is Dustin.” He squinted his eyes up at Billy, noteable hat missing and hair curling wildly all over his head. He looked older than the last time he saw him, shit, all the kids did. Except for Max. She’ll always look like a bridge troll to him. “You might be stronger than you were before but you don’t scare me anymore dude.” 

“Whatever, Donald.” Billy rolled his shoulders and pulled hard on his cigarette. Billy wanted to call him on his bluff, could read the lines of the kid’s shoulders and see the tension there, knew that he was being cautious and tip toeing the lines of conversation. 

“So, are your powers like El’s? Or do we have to do some science here?” 

“What’s a El?” Billy asked, purposefully sounding obtuse. He scratched the side of his head when Henderson just gave him a dead look. “Look, kid, I don’t fuckin’ know. Alls I know is I can get into people’s minds like” he snaps, “that easy. I can make people do, say, or think shit. Usually without them knowing I’m doin’ it.” Henderson’s scribbling away on his pad and Billy stares out into the woods. “I don’t fuckin’ know.” He repeats.

“So, seems like we’re definitely gonna have to do some science.” He smiles, teeth all there and Billy wonders when the fuck that happened. “Let’s go see if we can get some volunteers or if you’re stuck using me as your subject.” He pats Billy on the shoulder as he gets up and Billy also wonders when Henderson started thinking he could touch Billy. 

He fucking hates his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi it's been too long, hope y'all haven't forgotten me :)  
this took me longer than I thought it would
> 
> I've started a new job and I'm getting ready to move again so it might be too long before we meet again.  
slowly but surely getting my shit together and trying to get this fixed up and whatever lmao being an Adult is Fun.
> 
> I'm in the process of creating some short one pieces from this universe too so keep an eye out for those as well :)


	14. Bit my tongue, bide my time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy 10.5k of me not knowing what the fuck i'm doing :)   
I finished this right before going into work, next time we meet we'll be back in Florida

Billy’s sat in the cramped living room of the cabin and staring down the same ten sets of eyes that he did when he woke up an hour ago. The mug of tea is too hot and is making his hands sweat, Max really did know him too well and it worried him how little attention he paid to that before now. She was closer than he thought, even when she hated him she knew him better than anyone did. He thought he tried his hardest to prevent anything like that from happening but he figured fuck it now. Henderson is pacing while Steve is sat directly across the coffee table from him. Sinclair and Max are in the chairs by the dark windows, Wheeler and Jane on the floor at Nancy and Byers’ feet, Baby Byers and Robin have pulled chairs in from the kitchen and are off to the side of Billy’s direct vision. It feels too warm in the room, the log that was burning in the fireplace is mostly ash by this point and no one’s made a move to put another in. 

“So you could just go into Mike’s head and make him slap himself?” Sinclair asked.

“Why does he have to go into _my_ head? I don’t want that asshole in my head. He should go into your head.” Wheeler’s making one of his sour lemon faces, eyes darting between Sinclair and Billy. __

_ _“_That asshole_ ain’t wanna be in your head either, shrimp dick.” He says shortly before Sinclair could open up his mouth and start the bickering all over again. Billy lets his head loll back on his neck, looks up at the wooden beams above him. Counts down from ten, does it another two times. He’s never had patience for kids, never had patience for anyone, really, if he’s being entirely too honest with himself. “But, yeah, technically speaking, if I wanted Weenie here to smack himself I could make ‘im.” ___ _

_ _ _ _Billy squints his eyes at Wheeler’s baleful glare, he chuckles to himself when the kid’s face goes white and he looks away towards Jane real quick. Billy knows the kids aren’t scared, per se, of what he can do. They’ve been hanging out with Jane for how long now? He doesn’t think he can do anything extremely different than she can, she seems like she’s got better control of herself and can stretch herself out better than Billy’s managed so far. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Henderson’s scribbling something on the pad and muttering to himself, Harrington’s almost going cross eyed just watching the kid and it’s funny in that too exhausted way. Everything seems a little bit more ridiculous because it’s just past one in the morning, the tea has too much sugar and the kids are acting like they’ve been railing lines all day and the party is just starting. Billy has fucking mind powers, he can mentally bench more than he physically can and he feels a little giddy testing this shit out. Henderson has been asking more and more extreme things for him to do and so far the only thing he can’t do is get into someone’s head and show off the rest of what he can do. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _It’s coming up though, he can see Henderson evaluating each of his friends to find the perfect test subject for them. Billy thinks Henderson’s gonna force Max to do it but he’s been staring Harrington down awful hard, he wishes Max would just volunteer anyways. He doesn’t want to be in Harrington’s head, he was there once before and it was kind of a mess to navigate. Harrington thinks a lot of thoughts at a fast rate but they only seemed partially rational and are mostly only half formed anyways. At least with Max he’d only have to worry about her gross thoughts about Sinclair._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Okay, so, you can move things, juggle shit around and lift heavy shit too. Those are.. I guess those are some good quality things to be able to do. But you said they used you to fight those monster things, so how exactly were you using your powers to do that?” There’s Robin counting shit off her fingers at him again. At least this time she ain’t in his face. She’s been mostly quiet except for when he lifted her chair, with her in it, five feet off the ground. Wasn’t like he was gonna drop her but she still seemed a little freaked about it. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I just closed my eyes and when I opened ‘em the things were dead.” He speaks to the wooden beams above him, hears the scritching sound of Henderson takin’ his fucking notes again and releases a long sigh. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“How-” Robin’s brows are almost to her hairline, mouth pursed around the words she’s forming and it pisses him off for some reason. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I don’t fuckin’ know, alright? It just happened like that.” He’s tired of explaining every last little detail in depth, he’s tired of being carted around by Harrington and his crew, he’s tired of being poked and prodded and put on display. The giddiness of testing his limits has worn off to pure exhaustion, he’s not sure if he wants to keep doing this anymore. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He doesn’t know what he’s doing here, emotions all over the place and he can’t control it. He was never good at controlling himself, his dad had always enjoyed being the one to reign Billy in. He can’t keep his mind straight for a few long seconds, can’t think through the red haze and it makes his breathing pick up harshly. He’s mad, he’s sad, he’s hurt, he can’t keep himself straight long enough to know exactly what he’s feeling. The spiral staircase is in front of him and his feet are slipping, he’s tumbling around curved edges and his shoulders are hitting the sharp corners of the stairs. His ribs are opening up and the blackness of the monster within is swallowing him whole. His mind is racing, chest is aching, hands clenching around the empty mug._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _His tea is gone, that’s what he’s focussing on when the mug gets lifted from his hand and taken into the kitchen. He just stares at his empty hand, clenches his fingers twice before he looks over at Jane. He’s sure he looks like a fucking fish or something, gaping at where the mug just gently left the curl of his fingers. She winks at him and he cracks out laughing, thinks he’s going crazy but he can’t stop howling with it. It’s the reprieve from his own head that he needed so desperately. She’s got a pleased smile on her face when he clears the tears from his eyes and he’s reminded just how much of a kid she is. How little she knows about the world outside of a cold lab, thrust upon finding a new normal with people who don’t understand her capabilities. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Henderson snaps his fingers in Billy’s face twice and all the joy he was feeling leaves him immediately. He pushes the kid’s hand away, none to gently, and rolls his eyes when the kid starts flicking the side of the notepad._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Alright, Hargrove, let’s get into the deep shit.” Harrington’s making a weird face behind Henderson’s shoulder, Billy assumes he doesn’t want his golden child to curse and that brings a little of the joy back. Harrington’s a total fucking mom. “Do we have a singular volunteer who would let Billy into their head?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Henderson does a quick circle, hands out wide and almost smacking Billy in the face. Max is making a considering face, just like Billy figured, while Sinclair looks like he’d rather have his head chopped off. Which, fine, Billy wasn’t expecting any kind of warm welcome. He figures there’s still bad blood there, only from his own dumb ass decisions, so it’d be on him to clear it and he just doesn’t have the focus for that right now. Not with monsters and Mind Flayers and evil lab corporations popping up everywhere. Not with his own fucking dad being involved in the End Time Situations, like Harrington so often puts it. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Nancy fucking Wheeler offers herself, it almost feels like a virginal sacrifice the way it happens. She sets her mouth in a firm line, meets his eyes and says “If it’s necessary, then I guess I could.” He wants to laugh, cackle like an old witch and fly off on his broomstick. Some kinda bippity boppity bullshit. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Henderson pauses like he didn’t expect her offer, Harrington furrows his brows and looks down at the frayed rug under them, toes the line of it and looks up at Billy before flicking his eyes away. Billy thinks this is too fucking good to be true. Princess Wheeler, the virgin Nancy, the names he keeps making up go on and on in his head. Nancy Wheeler would let Billy in her head, god, what a dream. He wants to spit at her feet, wants to turn his chin up and act like he’s above her, wants to say something disgusting to get her blushing and angry. It’s something he would’ve done when they were still in school together, nothing like how they talked in the woods before they came back here. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He bites his tongue and continues to study the wooden beams while Henderson moves a chair to five feet in front of Billy. Nancy glides over, because she doesn’t simply walk- she glides, gracefully, easily, like she knows the ground is forever sturdy under her feet. It’s not the first time he’s noticed, it’s not the first time he’s been slightly jealous over the ease and confidence that comes so naturally to her. They’re face to face, her sky blue meets his ice blue. Her hair has gotten longer than he remembered it being at the mall, her sharp chin is tucked in and her face is relaxed. Her shoulders aren’t even tensed, she seems perfectly at ease in front of Billy and it’s so shocking that she might even be slightly comfortable with this that he sinks as soon as he takes his first deep breath in. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He sees Karen, her apron doubled over and tightly knotted around her waist while she’s holding a tray of something and Nancy is running around her knees with a smaller blonde girl chasing after her. He sees a round belly and a warm voice explaining she’s going to be a big sister. He sees a miniature version of the girl that sat around the swimming pool, cutting the crusts off sandwiches and trading them in the cafeteria. He sees Steve, hair short and sparkle in his eye, climbing through her bedroom window and calling himself a ‘Ninja’ so proudly. “Do you love me?” in Harrington’s voice reverberating around her head while she tries to remember the right algorithm for her math test. He sees a woman crying, truly awful wallpaper and endless amounts of fried chicken. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He sees a balding man, Jonathan and too strong vodka. It almost feels like Nancy is offering this up, the way she’s flicking through it all for him. Rows and rows and rows of teeth, the gut wrenching regret she has for leaving Mike at the mall, Heather’s dad chasing her down hallways in Hawkins Memorial, watching the rat in the cage melt down and turn into nothing. Jonathan, Jonathan, Jonathan. A trip to a lake, Baby Byers burning in the sun and Mike splashing her in the face, Karen yelling about Mike’s language from the shore. A whispered conversation at four in the morning about Steve of all fucking things._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“He really won’t talk to you?”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“He told me we were okay, that he understood what I was trying to say, but he won’t answer my calls and he keeps letting Hopper send him away. He doesn’t look remotely okay when he gets back and I-I’m worried about him.”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You know he took this Billy thing really hard-”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I know he’s serious about it, for whatever reason he has. I still don’t- okay, I guess I sorta understand his, whatever, obsession over that. But do you think it’s healthy for him to be like this about it?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You know if it were us in that position, if you had to watch me-”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“They weren’t like us, though. Steve wasn’t-” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Nance, you don’t know that. Will says that Steve and Max talked about Billy quite a lot, even before he got flayed.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He blinks back into himself, glances behind Nancy to look at Steve. They make eye contact and Steve looks like he relaxes with it before Billy blinks back over to Nancy. She’s got a slight blush on her cheeks, but her gaze is steady when it meets his own. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Sorry, that was, uhm, personal.” Her voice is quiet, but firm. She’s expecting him to read between the lines of what she’s saying. That it was more personal for Steve than it was for her and he’d better keep what he saw to himself or there would be problems. Billy may not be bookish but he’s smart enough to read people, smart enough to use the clues given to him to make the right assumptions. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“My lips are sealed.” He looks back over to Steve but can’t allow himself to meet his gaze, scared of what his face might give away. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“So, he was able to read your thoughts Nancy?” Henderson asks over Billy’s shoulder._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“More like filter through some memories.” Billy says. “There’s a lot on your mind right now.” He also says, like a fucking moron. Her blush darkens slightly. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Henderson is looking up at them while writing shit down, like a total nerd. “Right and did you influence her thinking in anyway, Billy?” He almost sounds like a doctor, the way he’s holding the pad and how one eyebrow is raised while looking between Billy and Nancy._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Can try again?” He asks her, waits until she gives a quiet ‘okay’ to close his eyes and sink back in. This time he focuses on her thought pattern, the things she’s letting him see and the memories behind them that he could file through if he absolutely wanted to. She’s thinking about the dog her neighbors had, how her dad bitched and bitched about his rose bush getting fucked up from the thing. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Billy thinks about rose bushes, shows her reds and pinks and whites, shows her her own hand reaching out into the bush. Her finger catching on a thorn and a small dot of red appearing in the next seconds, breathes in through her gasp and shows her a spot beyond the rose bush. He moves his head with hers, shows her branches arching out what feels like millions of feet above them, he shows her roots that protrude from the Earth and create rifts in the vegetation around. Her memories of chasing the same small blonde girl fit effortlessly over the image he’s projecting. There’s giggling and leaves falling slowly, moss getting caught in small ponytails and coveralls. There’s a small dark haired head, a firm pout on the kid’s mouth and his arms crossed over his chest. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Mom said it’s time to go home Nancy, I’m bored.” A whiny, tiny Mike says. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He shows her a swimming pool. Well, Steve’s swimming pool. He feels her chest start aching, her heartbeat accelerate. He vaguely knows he’s being an asshole by doing this, is aware of the consequences but pushing is what he’s good at. He shows her the redhead sitting at the pool, feet gliding just beyond the surface of the water. He shows her the shadows moving in the window upstairs, they can vaguely hear Tommy giggling somewhere downstairs. But he doesn’t show her the black shadows sneaking through the pool, he shows her the girl he met in the dream. He shows her Barb staring up at the stars and smiling to herself over the astronomy joke she tried to tell Nancy on Monday, the little scoff that leaves her mouth when Carol makes a loud noise inside. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Somewhere, distantly, he hears Nancy say “stop.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _But he needs to push once more, needs something from Nancy that he didn’t think was possible. He shows her the basement in Illinois, the bed that’s set up with Steve’s things all around it, clothes littered on the floor even leading to the small hallway. He knows she didn’t want him to see this, the memory of the fight before Steve left for Florida, but he saw it and wants her to fill in the blanks. To answer the question that Steve’s been avoiding. She doesn’t disappoint. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I just don’t see why it’s a big deal!” Nancy shouts, following behind the figure that just ducked into the small half bathroom._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Steve sputters, tossing shit into a bag, slamming the medicine cabinet door. “Of course you wouldn’t.” He rolls his eyes as he passes her, turning to walk sideways to avoid touching her. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Hopper said-”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Nance.” Steve warns but she waves her hands out in front of her._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Hopper said that it wasn’t a big deal, that there probably was nothing in Florida. Why would you waste your time?” She held onto the doorway as she looked in on him pulling clothes from the ground, sniffing them and then shoving them into a bag. “Look, Jonathan and I are going out to-”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh, yeah, I heard about that. Have fun. I hear New York is nice this time of year.” Steve said sarcastically. “Enjoy canvasing your colleges, your tutor still working under the books to get you your diploma? That’s real nice.” There’s an edge to his voice that tells Billy they’ve fought about this before. Normalcy is on the table for Nancy but apparently not for Steve. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I’m not- can you just- Steve. Listen to me, please. I’m not hiding out here out of kindness, my life is just as in danger as yours-”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh my god, that’s not what this is about. It’s about finding Billy-”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“What do you mean, finding Billy? You know what happened to him, we all know what happened to him. Someone can’t come back from something like that-”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“And how do you know that? Where’s the years of research into this shit that tells us that that was the end of the line for him after having some fucking monster living inside of him? No one knows anything about this shit, not even the god damn scientists that keep bringing the shit back!” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I think that’s a lot of wishful thinking-”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Of course you would.” Steve scoffs. The sound of the zipper closing on his bag finalizes something. Nancy looks like she’s just lost a war, the devastation clear on her face._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“If there’s something you want to talk about, especially involving Billy Hargrove, you know you can talk to me, right, Steve? You know I wouldn’t judge you or-”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Think we’re a little beyond that, huh?” Steve’s bambi eyes won’t meet Nancy’s, they look a little watery. “There’s nothing to tell about Billy.” He says firmly, grabbing his bag up roughly and pushing past Nancy-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I told you to stop, Billy-” There’s a firm hand clamping down on his shoulder and he blinks back into the cabin. Jonathan is standing behind him, it’s his hand that’s tightening and releasing on Billy’s shoulder. Nancy looks like she broke out into a sweat, or maybe she’s crying but Billy doesn’t think she’d cry in front of a roomful of people like that. “This is over, you should know to respect boundaries better.” She says, her voice wavering slightly. She leaves the room, Billy hears the screen door off the kitchen slam behind her._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Really, man?” Jonathan shakes Billy’s shoulder after he glares up at him, then quietly pads out after her. Billy doesn’t understand why these people think they can touch him._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Well, that was spectacular results, Billy, really, you couldn’t have done better.” Henderson says, droll, nose almost meeting his notepad. Billy thinks with all the writing he’s done so far he should be about out of paper._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _The wooden beams above him become interesting again. Max lays a hand on the top of his head as she passes by, a brief but grounding touch and he stutters out a sigh and his eyes slip closed. He tries to connect any dots with Florida, wonders why someone would think he’d be out in Florida in the first place or if Hopper was just letting Steve run away from the real problem. He didn’t think Steve would be a coward like that, but he guesses if it was justified the right way then just maybe he would be. Billy’s full of even more doubts, all he wanted were solutions. Max comes back a few minutes later, he’s successfully droned out Henderson’s prodding into what he did to Nancy, and she holds a steaming mug over his eyes. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Maxine you just might be the only good thing about this god forsaken town.” Billy says, winks at Steve’s huff of a laugh then promptly chokes when piping hot salt water hits the back of his throat. “I take every nice thing I’ve ever said about you back, you fuckin’ asshole.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _She smiles at him, smiles like the sun right in his eye and laughs with Sinclair at the sour face he’s making. Old Billy wouldn’t have let that happen, would’ve thrown an absolute bitch fit over it. Right now though he can’t seem to care enough, thinks a big smile and laugh from Steve might be worth the reputation hit. He doesn’t want to think about the fact that he’s comparing his behaviors by calling them Old Billy things, the loss of personality is like falling down the spiral staircase again and he doesn’t think he could survive feeling that again in that moment._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He just sets the mug on the coffee table and rolls his eyes, too comfortable where he is to get up and make a proper cup. He doesn’t really need the extra sugar anyways, wants nothing more than to clean the blood off his face and go back to fucking bed now. He feels someone watching him and catches Baby Byers’ gaze before the kid quickly looks away. The bowl cut is gone, finally, and it makes him look more like a teenager now. The kid still has a bit of a baby face but he’s making up for it in height. The kid looks back up and meets Billy’s gaze and he finally realizes why he was avoiding looking at him. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Will Byers, resident Zombie (Billy thinks he gets to take that title away from him though), has haunted eyes. Not literally, Billy can look into his eyes and not feel like he’s going to die a little but he does feel like Baby Byers can see the monster under his skin. He knows that Baby Byers has seen some shit, has lived through some shit, was possessed as well. The only people he can even remotely relate to are fucking children. What a lesson in humility, huh. He keeps his mouth shut, where he usually would say something scathing, watches the kid think his thoughts for split seconds before Weenie grabs his attention. It feels like Billy’s been let off a leash when that happens, like the rope around his throat was severed instead of his neck. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Robin moves to sit beside Steve, talks lowly to him about someone named Bruce and Steve makes three truly awful Batman jokes. She catches him looking twice, her eyebrows furrowing and her mouth hooking downwards. She seems bothered by him, almost. Not mad about him being there, but bothered enough to backhand Steve’s shoulder and say she’ll explain later. He’s not really listening to their conversation, doesn’t care enough about anyone she knows to really want to hear the dirt. He can’t recall the last time someone tried to make him feel small in a social setting, he’s used to people attempting to make him feel small. Grew up cutting parts of himself out to make himself fit the mold his dad had set for him. But he’s also used to taking up entire rooms with his personality, mostly just showboating himself at parties, but now he’s not sure which part of him that was. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _There’s the falling down the spiral staircase feeling again, he’s almost nauseous with it. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Billy, will you help me in the kitchen?” Max asks, anxiety written all over her face. It makes him pause long enough that she rolls her eyes, walks over and tugs at his wrist gently. She looks over at Jane and nods once and the three of them leave the room together. He thinks they’re ganging up on him for a moment. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He has a fast thought before anyone jumps into conversation, turns quickly to look at Jane (or El??) and sizes her up._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Hey, whaddya want me to call ya?” He asks her, crosses his arms and rubs at his elbows. She gives him a confused look and then it clears. She looks at him and looks at him, makes him feel off footed for a few long seconds before she nods to herself once. He wonders if she just peeped his mind, figures he’d know if she did but still isn’t certain._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Call me Jane. I like it.” She says it simply but Billy feels like he’s privileged._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“So why don’t you correct us when we call you El?” Max asks, brows low over her eyes and mouth twisted to the side._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Jim says Jane for family, El for friends and Eleven for bad guys.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Billy feels kinda weird that Jane considers him family. Max looks like she might have something to say about that but she bites her tongue which is probably for the best. He figures it’s a mind powers thing instead of an actual connection and that’s just fine too. He thinks if he was fifteen and alone with powers he’d latch onto the next person to come along just like him, doesn’t take it personally. He remembers the moments they shared right before he killed himself for her, thinks it might be more personal than he can bare to handle right there and then. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Okay, well, I want hot chocolate and Billy makes the best hot chocolate ever.” Max says to Jane conversationally, sniggers behind Billy’s back when Jane’s eyes get huge and she looks at him in wonder. Definitely ganging up on him, then._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I like hot chocolate.” Her brown eyes are melting him, he’s always been a sucker for puppy eyes. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Max is thumping through cabinets and the fridge, getting whatever supplies are there out for him while Jane washes mugs for them. It’s the strangest thing Billy’s done in his entire life, hanging out with two teenage girls and making them hot chocolate. He feels off footed again, but in a good way. Like this might be the weirdest picture to someone looking in, Maxine and Jane talking to each other across the kitchen and throwing looks at Billy when he grunts over something they’ve said. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He’s turning to Max when he hears something whizzing through the air and lifts a hand to catch or deflect whatever the fuck it is. In the next few seconds he’s clutching an orange tennis ball, didn’t even have to look at it to catch it, Henderson is shoving Sinclair off his chair with a shouted “I TOLD YOU SO” and Weenie is sucking lemons at him for the umpteenth time. Baby Byers has a small smile on his face and laughs when Billy shakes the ball at him. The kid gets up, walks around Harrington breaking up the boys wrestling, and jumps up on the counter next to Jane. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Feels like I’m running some kinda fucked up daycare, jesus.” Robin says, poking her head into the kitchen and shaking it at Billy. “Don’t give them that back, they were planning on doing worse with it. You’re lucky the good ones are following you like baby ducks.” She pulls a face, like she’s still unsure how she got into this situation, like she never expected in a million years to attempt to relate to Billy._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I look like a papa duck to you?” He goes a little cross eyed during his frown at her and she gives him a shocked laugh, like she never expected him to be humorous. He’s kinda shocked too, thinks he’s spending way too much fucking time with these kids and Harrington. Thinks he’s getting a little too soft. Makes himself think about Hopper smacking his dad around to bring himself back to reality. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Robin gives him a considering look for a long moment before stepping into the kitchen, she doesn’t get right in his space but she might as well considering how fidgety she gets trying to figure out the appropriate amount of space to put between them. Jane watches her from the corner of her eye and it makes Billy want to laugh, like Robin is the one to be cautious about and not the guy who spent a year in a fucking lab being made into a superhuman. Robin watches him curiously, pays close attention to how his fingers move over the ingredients on the counter._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Let me guess, you want in?” Max asks her, one eyebrow cocked and her mouth in a sassy pucker. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Didn’t know the mafia had stock in hot chocolate.” She says, bored like Max wasn’t giving major attitude. She looks over to Billy and squints her eyes. “You’re taking all of this a lot better than I assumed you were.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He wants to say something about assumptions, wants to flat out tell her she doesn’t know shit about him and she never has but something holds his tongue. He breathes through the brief anger, gives himself a second to think about everything in a general sense and then shrugs._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“This is a lot easier to process.” He leaves what he wants to say unspoken, lets her fill in the blanks however she chooses, doesn’t need to express in detail how thankful he is to be around kids instead of flower headed monsters and russians. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I get that, but you’re not really processing; you’re just going through the motions.” It cuts a little deeper than she probably intended, than he wanted it to._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“The fuck d’you know about going through the motions? You ever been in my position? Un-fucking-likely.” He can’t help the anger bubbling up now, can’t stop the vitriol from spewing and puddling around the room. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Yeah, that’s actually a personal conversation that we can have later. Another fucked up you show me yours and I’ll show you mine trauma edition.” She doesn’t get mad at him, doesn’t glare at him or act like he’s garbage for getting upset. She does move a few feet farther away, as much a slap to the face as her words. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Right-” He starts but he’s cut off by shouts from the living room, he’s half grateful for it. Baby Byers and Maxine are giving him weird looks while Jane’s moving the salt and pepper shakers around above their heads. She makes it seem like she’s not paying any attention to anyone else, but the twitch in her hand when Robin leaves to check on the other boys tells Billy that she was listening all the same. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Weenie and Henderson are going at it, bickering escalating to the point that Harrington yells over them to shut the fuck up. Billy realizes they’re fighting over semantics, Henderson thinks that Billy has more complicated powers than El and Weenie is disagreeing on the insult to his little girlfriend alone. Sinclair butting in every few quips, Max squawking from the kitchen when he says something only slightly rude about Billy. It’s fucking annoying, is what it is. Who cares what Billy can do and a fucking kid can’t, it’s not like Billy knows any better. Jane looks unaffected, rolling her eyes and laughing at Max’s dramatic faces when the insults start getting more creative. He’s decided he’s had enough of this shit for one night, blocks the kids out and starts warming milk on the stove. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He almost burns his hand when Max asks “Do you think my mom is okay?” in a real small voice. She’s got her shoulders hunched in, hair covering half her face as she looks down at her hands and peeks up at Billy every few seconds._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _She gives him a weird look when he glances over at her, he’s not sure which expression he’s wearing but it’s probably not a reassuring one. She bites her lip and scuffs her thumb against the worn plastic top table, eyes drifting towards the ground again. Billy can tell she’s trying not to worry, trying to take everything at face value but Maxine was always the kid to ask a thousand questions, even when she just did something and asked later. She liked to know all the details, she liked to know any plan inside and out so if something went wrong she was prepared. He thought maybe she got it from her mom but Susan was never the kind of woman who wanted to know everything, long nights of his dad dragging him around the house proved that. So she must’ve gotten that characteristic from her old man. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Jim wouldn’t let her get hurt.” Jane says confidently. Max still doesn’t look assured and Billy’s completely lost at how to navigate this. Kids were never his fucking forte, little people who know too much but not enough made him uncomfortable. He should maybe stop calling Max a kid considering she’s tall enough for her head to reach his shoulders now but she’s still so small and he still sees the little ragtag kid from California. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I’m- I don’t know, Max. Don’t think my dad would do anythin’ to her.” He says. His shoulders are stock still, it’s the one tell that he’s lying and he knows that Max knows it, as he adds the chocolate and stirs slowly. “If she didn’t know anything, then I guess she’d be fine.” He refuses to look at her and gives her extra marshmallows to make up for it. Feels like an asshole for not giving a passable lie. Feels like an asshole for lying in the first place. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Five mugs later and Billy’s reached his peak, Max is blabbing her fucking head off and Baby Byers keeps giving him these looks that he can’t fucking understand. Jane’s got two hands wrapped around her mug and she looks so warm and happy that Billy feels awkward all over again. So he takes his mug and goes to sit back in the living room except Henderson has Nancy back in there and she shoots him a tempestuous glare so he nudges Harrington’s knee and ducks away from her gaze. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Steve rolls his head along the back of the couch to look at him and Billy goes warm with it. He looks so good, faded red sweater and grey sweatpants on, legs crossed with his knees pointed out and toes tucked under himself. Billy’s been a good boy, kept his eyes above his waist, the second time in hours that he could’ve gotten such a good look on the Harrington family jewels but restrained himself. Steve’s hair has gotten long, is brushing the tops of his shoulders. It softens his face, makes him look like a fuckin’ wet dream. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Smoke?” Billy mouths, jerks his chin to the door of the cabin and Steve nods once. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _So they shove their feet into their boots and pull on their jackets, Billy has a few seconds where he can’t quite juggle the mug and shove his hand through his sleeve and he curses himself under his breath. They sit together, too close, on the steps right outside the living room. They don’t talk for a few minutes, Billy watches the snow and Steve picks at the rotting wood by their knees. He can hear Steve’s teeth chattering, he can see his jaw shaking and holds the mug out for Steve to take._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“It’s still warm, just made it.” Billy says, feels like a fucking moron when Steve just stares at him a few seconds too long. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Their fingers brush when Steve takes the mug and it feels like an electric current running through his palm and up his arm. He still feels like a fucking moron, feels more like a creep as he watches Steve take a tentative sip. Steve blinks at him twice and then takes a healthy gulp of the hot chocolate._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Holy shit, you made this? What the fuck, man, you been holdin’ out on me? I don’t even like hot chocolate.” There’s a small, pleased smile on his face and Billy has to look away quickly._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I’m a man of many talents, what can I say.” He pulls his lighter out of his pocket and lights up, holds it out to trade Harrington for the mug. “Helps that my mom loved teachin’ me shit.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Yeah? My mom never let me in the kitchen. Said it’d stunt my growth if I messed up her good knives.” He chuckles, but it sounds sad. “My Nana always said a good man should know how to make tea, but it wasn’t until Max showed me how that I understood what she meant.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Billy’s a little caught up on Max and Steve having tea together, Max teaching Steve how to make a good cup. He can just imagine them gossiping, talking about Lacey Porters and her obsession with Sinclair. It makes him chuckle a little. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Max couldn’t make a decent mug until I showed her how to do it. Her mom don’t do sugar or nothin’ innit.” Steve laughs at the disgusted face he makes, it makes Billy feel even warmer. He starts to question his sanity some more._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Are you, like, a secret tea snob or something?” Steve sounds delighted at the prospect so Billy tips his face so his nose points up and sniffs._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Ain’t that mucha secret, pretty boy.” He smiles while Steve laughs, loudly in his ear but he wouldn’t have it any other way. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He looks over and gets captured in Steve’s eyes, in the shoddy porch light they’re dark but he’s seen them turn molten in the sun. He’s seen them turn soft when he laughed or smiled, seen them go edgy and dark when he was pissed beyond belief, seen them turn cold when he had a mental flashback and went white in the face. He’s seen sides to King Steve Harrington that he wouldn’t have ever thought existed, he’s witnessed severely uncool moments that, if it were him, he’d be embarrassed about later. But Steve seems to just take it in stride, presents himself as is even when he continuously cuts himself short. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He realizes he’s been caught staring when Steve clears his throat and blinks his eyes away from Billy, a slight pink showing up on his cheeks. Billy flicks his gaze out to the snow and trees, desperately telling himself to stop the path his mind is on. He’s known Steve was attractive since the moment he saw him, he’s known Steve had a dry humor and a bit of a foul mouth, he’s even known that Steve wasn’t as basic as he allowed everyone to think he was. Steve’s surprised him, he curses himself for falling into the facade. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Headlights flash across them, Billy winces while Steve throws an arm up to block his eyes. The door flung open behind them, it makes Billy startle a little too visibly, and just as the lights cut out the passenger door opens. The resulting voice calling his name makes him want to hide under a rock for, like, ever. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“MOM,” Max screeches, pushing between Billy and Steve to make it down the steps and out to where Susan has already bolted forward. They collide but Susan keeps her eyes trained on Billy as she wraps Max into a hug._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He wishes he was still as much an asshole as he remembers he was, wishes he could brush off Susan and remind her that she’s not actually his mom. When her hand makes it to his head it’s soft, reverent, like he’s fragile and labeled ‘handle with care.’ She cards her fingers through the short hair he’s got and he sighs into it, waiting for the tears to start and already not knowing how he’s going to make it through this interaction. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh, Billy.” She whispers, like he’s a little kid who’d gotten hurt. “How are you- are you actually- oh my goodness.” Aaaaaand, there’s the tears. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He blinks up at her, like a fucking moron, and Max snorts a laugh into her sleeve. He looks around Susan to see Neil, Hopper, Mom Byers and the bald guy standing back just watching the show. Neil has some intensive purpling around his left eye and an extremely sour look on his face, Mom Byers’ hair is wildly sticking up in every direction and Hopper looks like he’d kill for a full pack of cigarettes. He peeks over at Steve to see he’s got an awkward smile on his face, looking between Susan and Neil then back to Billy. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Looks like we should take this inside.” Is all he says before he grabs the now cold mug of hot chocolate and leaves Billy on the steps. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“There’s the adults! You need to go to bed!” He hears Robin yelling from inside, Steve honk laughing immediately after. There’s a shout and a thud and Henderson yelling ‘sorry’ so loud that Billy’s sure the whole fuckin’ county heard it. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Max snorts another laugh into her sleeve then grabs her mom’s wrist to lead her inside, talking a mile a minute about how sorry she was that she didn’t call to say she was missing dinner but Billy and Neil had started fighting and then Hopper-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You gonna be on your best behavior?” Hopper growls at Neil and Billy’s thrown through a loop. He’s never heard a single person talk to his dad like that, holds his breath until he realizes his dad isn’t gonna verbally respond, he just nods his head. “Good, I’ll bring the cuffs back out if you’re not. Let’s get inside.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Billy’s up and through the doorway before Neil can even take a step forward, he goes straight through the small living room that feels like it’s getting smaller and smaller with how many people keep coming in and straight to the kitchen to grab some water. Susan and Max are posted up at the other end of the kitchen, Susan putting water on the stove and Max sitting at the table with her chin in her hand just talkin’ a mile a minute. It’s so late that it’s early at this point and Billy wonders if he’s ever going to sleep again. He leaves before he gets dragged into an awkward conversation, already preparing for the absolute bomb that he knows Hopper’s gonna drop on him any second now. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _But it seems like they’re playing the waiting game. The kids get ushered to the bedroom, coffee and tea get made, the bald guy drinks straight from a bottle he pulls from inside his coat. Billy’s sitting between Steve and Robin, a weird sort of relaxed feeling comes over him when Steve bumps their shoulders together then pushes his elbow into Billy’s chest when he reaches over to take the sugar from Robin. The three of them are facing Neil and Susan, Hopper and Mom Byers on the sidelines, Nancy and Jonathan are standing in the doorway to the hallway with their arms crossed while the bald guy paces behind the couch. He wishes it was hours earlier when he was watching Henderson pace and the only challenging thing was the barrage of tests the kids made up. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Hopper taps out a cigarette, glances briefly between Steve and Billy with a small furrow in his brow that sets him on edge. He almost forgot the shit that his dad had said about Steve, almost forgot the insinuations and then for them to roll up and see them that close, to see them even closer now makes him feel wrong somehow. There’s dread building up in his stomach, a nuclear bomb sitting directly across from him with a timer counting down in his eyes. Susan has put a deliberate amount of space between herself and Neil, Billy’s eyes are stuck to that small void and he’s going over what that could possibly mean; does she know everything, does she know anything, is she going to flip out or run off, how is she even gonna react? _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Hopper clears his throat and Susan snaps her head up from where she’d been studying her hands. She flicks her eyes over to Billy then back to Hopper and sighs softly._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Your father and I will be separating.” Susan says, eyes covered in a water film made of unshed tears. Billy wishes this was the atomic bomb he had been waiting for. “Apparently he’s not the person I thought I had married. Maxine and I will be staying in town, Mr. Hopper has offered us an apartment off Main until we get our situation figured out. You’re welcome to come with us, if that’s something that you might want.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He waits for her to say something else but that’s it, the ending he wanted so badly is finally happening and it feels wrong. It feels like he’s losing something bigger than everything he’s already lost. He can’t find the words that everyone is waiting for, knows time is running short for an answer by the way his father shakes his head and scoffs to himself. Billy’s stuck in this numb feeling, this new what if that’s weighing him down. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You don’t have to know what you’re going to do right now, though.” Susan says quietly, looking right through Billy without actually seeing him. “Mr. Hopper explained that there’s a lot of big decisions you’re going to have to make here soon and I just wanted to let you know you have a space away from whatever’s been keeping you away, Billy.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He wants to cry. Susan never spoke about the long nights of fighting between him and his dad, she never brought up the bruises or broken bones or blood stains on the carpets. She never asked questions about it, never brought attention to how Neil disciplined as long as it wasn’t that way for Maxine. Susan was never a lifesaver floating in the sea for him to grab and be pulled ashore with. He doesn’t know why she thinks she could be now, the only thing he’s thankful for is her resilience with keeping Max away from Neil. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _She doesn’t know where he’s been or what’s been done to him for the last almost two years either, it settles like a stone in his gut. She kept his room ready for him, she waited him out, but she never knew what had actually happened the way that Neil and Max did. When she tried to be motherly with him it felt wrong, it felt forced and awkward. They both knew that relationship was never going to take, they were never going to be Step Mom and Step Son. He kept himself quiet for her sake, except for the times where he was goading his father he hardly spoke to Susan. The quiet mornings they shared with hot tea and sections from the newspaper were about as close as they could’ve gotten. He feels robbed of something, the offer she’s giving him doesn’t feel like it’s actually for him. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _So he stays quiet, again, leans into the back of the couch a little harder. Feels Robin brush her shoulder against his for a second before he flicks his eyes from the floor and over to Hopper. He knows there’s questions in his eyes, knows that Hopper can read them better than anyone in the room and Billy knows the slight shake of the cop’s head is answer enough. Not tonight. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Neil says he has family in Florida, did you know about them Billy? You’re uncle Dom is in Florida. Bet he’d be real happy to hear from you.” Susan sounds more teery than she did before, like she’s realizing that she’s on her own now. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Billy doesn’t have family in Florida. Neil was an only child, born in Massachusetts but settled in California after his stint in the military. Both Billy and Steve are frozen, Billy feels like his spine might snap in half with how tense his back is. He can’t risk looking at Steve without his dad noticing and possibly even Susan. Eddwad must be hiding in Florida. Shit, there could even but fucking labs in Florida. Billy can’t help the glare he gives his father, knows the glare he’s getting right back speaks multitudes of things. Things like ‘don’t say a fucking word’, ‘don’t look at me like that’, ‘I’ll beat your ass if you so much as even breathe the wrong way about this’. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“No, I didn’t know uncle Dom was staying out in Florida. Just might haveta write ‘im or somethin’.” Billy bites out, glare showdown with his dad going strong. Billy has gooseflesh on the back of his neck, feels cold all over. There’s a muffled shout from the bedroom and Mom Byers stands up quick to check on the kids. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _The lights flicked above them and Steve sucks in a sharp breath. None of this feels right, none of this seems right either. Everyone is quiet for long, tense seconds and Billy doesn’t waste another moment waiting. He’s staring off into space, mentally checked out and he knows that if Susan were paying any kind of attention to him it might cause some concern. He pushes through the boundary of his own might and feels outside of the cabin. He knows he can’t feel the monsters, even if he absolutely wanted to, but there’s a small presence about fifteen feet out from the cabin. Not a person, not an animal, not something living. Something electric sending vibrations that specifically feel like they’re for him._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He jumps from the couch, claps Hopper on the shoulder and pulls him back in his chair as he rounds the couch and shoves himself outside and down the steps. He holds his breath, feels the electricity pulse five feet to the right and one foot forward. A buzzing pager, screen filled with numbers scrolling to the left to reveal even more numbers, sat atop a dead flower head. Teeth were missing from the head, perfectly pulled from it’s jaw like someone was taking souvenirs. He pushes from here, reaching out for anything or anyone that he could reach. He’s still unsure just how far he can reach someone, only ever having tried on Harrington and that wasn’t successful in the least bit._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Hopper and Harrington are waiting outside for him when he walks back to the steps. Someone, or much worse something, got within fifteen feet of the cabin and not a single one of the twenty thousand trip wires went off, not a single person inside except for maybe Jane and Billy could even know someone was around. The cabin wasn’t as safe a spot as Billy had been privately hoping it would be. He knew realistically it wasn’t but he’d ignored it for the sake of bigger fish to fry. He held out the pager, wiggled it in his hand a bit before giving it to Hopper._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“D’you have any idea what these numbers mean?” He looks over to see a few of the kids poking their heads into the window, hears creaks from the cabin of heavy fee moving around._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Hopper tilts the pager over so Steve can get a good look of it and then it seems like they’re both making the same face. Brows low over their eyes and mouths thinned out it looks almost like their nose is trying to eat their chins. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Coordinates.” Steve says. “The last three coordinates of places I looked for you. All of them are in Florida. Guess your uncle Dom’s ready for you to visit.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Seems like an invitation if I’ve ever seen one.” Hopper says, sharing a meaningful look with Steve. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“So how the fuck we gonna do this? Max ain’t allowed to miss school, not like we’re going on some Disney trip or somethin’.” Billy ignored the snort of a laugh Harrington his in his sleeve. Just because Billy was always fucking off about school doesn’t mean Max could. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“It’s almost winter break, man.” Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck. “If you think we’re going anywhere without those fucking kids they’ll prove to you how wrong you are by showing up there anyways. It’s kinda their thing.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Hopper gives a huff, face impassive as his eyes move along the woods behind Billy. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Every god damn time I make a decent plan something fucking changes.” He says gruffly. “Now we gotta cart your piece’a shit dad ‘round with us.” He rolls his eyes heavenward, breathing in deeply. “This is gonna be a fuckin’ circus.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _The door opens and the bald man walks out. He takes a few swigs from his bottle, sighs happily and then pats Hopper on the shoulder with the back of his hand. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Zombie boy had a vision while the three a’yous been out here yappin’.” He wasn’t slurring at all, actually, considering he’d been drinking straight vodka since they got back into the cabin. Billy could respect that. Might’ve been a little jealous, his tolerance for everything is probably so low he’d get shitfaced off a beer. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Hopper looks supremely unimpressed with baldy, he gives him a dead glare before he steps inside to find Mom and Baby Byers. Baldy looks between Billy and Steve, wiggles his eyebrows and then laughs loudly when Steve points back to the door of the cabin._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Should’ve known you were a leggy blonde type of man, Steve.” Harrington’s blushing from the collar of his sweater to his hairline, tips of his ears pinking and the back of his neck flushing red. It’s so cute that Billy can’t help but to snigger a little bit before the words that Baldy said make sense in his head. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Get fucked, Murr.” Steve snaps, not an approval or a denial of the accusation thrown his way. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Second chances, don’t take them for granted.” Baldy says sadly, looking Billy over before turning on his heel and heading inside. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“The fuck was that about?” Billy knows he sounds angry, but he can’t seem to find an ounce of it anywhere in him. He wants to stop getting distracted from whatever the pager means, whatever all those pictures mean, whatever him being here means. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Nothing.” Steve says in a sigh, looks behind Billy into the woods and then turns to meet eyes with Henderson flailing in the window trying to get their attention. “Let’s get back inside.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Billy grabs Steve’s elbow when he goes to turn away, it feels weird to just reach out and touch someone. Especially with how warm Steve is. Billy used to feel like he ran too hot, a human furnace. But now he always feels like he’s too cold, constantly on the brink of freezing to death. Steve raises an eyebrow and Billy feels kinda stupid, but there’s something that’s been eating away at him since the first time they sat down with Hopper to talk about what happened to him after the Mind Flayer._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Do you think we’re gonna make it out of this again?” Steve asks when Billy doesn’t say anything. He asks like he’s scared of Billy’s answer, like he’s terrified of the prospect of fighting a bigger war and losing more than he lost the first time. “Do you think you are?”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Don’t have any choice, Steve.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Steve looks at him and he looks right back, both of them reliving the worst case scenario in their heads and both knowing Billy would do it all over again if that was the answer. If it came down to it Billy would give himself over time and time again to make sure Jane or anyone else never had to. If it came down to it Billy would let himself lose the battle to win the war. He hoped it didn’t come down to that, could see clearly on Steve’s face that he was hoping the same thing. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Just-”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“HEY, I’ve been trying to get your ATTENTION.” Henderson shouts from the doorway and Billy hates his life. “We’re having a MEETING in here and two of our most important members are WHISPERING SWEET NOTHINGS to each other.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh my fucking god-” Billy starts, already anticipating his dad’s reaction._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“DUSTIN will you PLEASE just SHUT THE FUCK UP.” Steve swipes a hand over his face. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“If I don’t die this round then he fuckin’ is.” Billy grumbles as he shoves Steve, who’s giving the ugliest laugh ever, to the steps._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You sound like a pissed off toddler.” Steve mumbles back making Billy snort._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I am what I eat.”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“That’s very metal of you, wow, how hardcore can you go?” They both have odd smiles one their faces, Billy can’t name the emotion settling into his chest. Steve’s fucking with him and it’s the best thing to happen in so long that Billy wants to revel in it. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You’re both so weird.” Henderson says, brows furrowed and eyes bouncing between them. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Billy sobers from his laughter when he meets his father’s gaze. It’s all too knowing, how he’s looking at him and then raising an eyebrow at Steve. He doesn’t even have to say anything to make Billy feel shame over their interactions. Billy looks away as fast as he can and meets Mom Byers’ gaze next, she gives him a watery smile and waves a hand to offer the seat next to her. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Hop’s breaking the news that only a few of the kids are going with you to Florida. He tried to make Murray stay behind with all the kids, you should’ve seen how fast shit hit the ceiling.” She bobbles her head with a quiet laugh and Billy feels a little bit centered._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _She’s odd enough that Billy doesn’t feel like the only stranger in the room. He knows all of these kids have their own nightmares, have lived with secrets of monsters and government labs but they’re still young enough not to realize how this is going to fuck their views on life forever. They think this is some extracurricular thing, they have fun breaking codes and finding clues. The adults are all withdrawn with their exhaustion of never having a normal life again. Except Baldy, he’s probably just as excited as the kids. Fucking weirdo. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“How could we possibly leave anyone behind?” Weenie’s whining, glaring straight into Hopper’s face. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“What happens when something goes wrong here and everyone else is in Florida?” Hopper counters, Sinclair nods in agreement. Weenie goes silent. “Exactly. Seven of us are going to Florida and the rest of you are staying here.” Jane glares at him from where she’s sitting next to Robin, arms crossing over her chest._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“No.” She says sternly. “Last time you left, you died.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _The room slows to a halt, Billy’s head spins with the new information. Hopper died too, Hopper died and came back? Hopper-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I didn’t die and you know this.” He says, agitated, like they’ve been over this a thousand times before and it’s gotten old fast. “You found me, anyways.” Jane’s eyes flicker over to Billy and there’s a story there that he’s missing, a story he wants to know. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You’re not leaving me here.” The teenager attitude in her is fierce, she must’ve been getting lessons from Max. The emphasis on the word ‘here’, dragging out the vowels and glaring by the time she’s done. Oh, yeah, she’s been around Maxine too long. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Hopper rolls his eyes up to the wooden beams that Billy was studying hours before and takes a deep breath. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Okay.” He drags out with his own personal attitude flavored in. They make quite a pair, Hopper and Jane. One attitude butting heads with the other, scrambling for purchase to beat the other’s down. “Joyce, do you think you’ll be okay taking charge here?” His tone completely changes when he speaks to her, like they’re the only two in the room and it would be cute if it wasn’t gross at the same time. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Joyce nods once, looks over to Murray and then tilts her head towards the kitchen. The three of them step away from the room to continue that discussion and Billy’s caught up in his father’s gaze again. He stares back numbly, waiting for the berrating of a lifetime to come but Neil holds his tongue and shakes his head once before glancing over to where Susan’s resting in a chair with an afghan pulled over her. Her eyes are barely open but she makes encouraging noises when Max says something to her, so Billy figures she’s got about an hour before she’s passing out. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Alright, it’s settled, everyone get some sleep. We’re leaving for Florida in five hours.” Hopper still hasn’t said who exactly is going to Florida but Billy already knew it was going to be him. He assumes his dad too. Hopper pulls Neil from the room and the kids start pulling blankets and sleeping bags from the chest behind the couch. Susan and Joyce are talking quietly, Joyce pulling car keys from her pocket and checking her wrist watch. Robin nudges Billy with her toes and tilts her head towards the hall. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“We’re having a slumber party in your bedroom, sleeping beauty.” She’s got a small smile on her face so Billy doesn’t take it too personally, just stands and stretches his hands above his head while he follows her back. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _In the small room at the end of the added on part of the cabin, Steve’s already setting up blankets on the floor. Nancy and Jonathan are in the other added on room talking quietly and turning the lights out. The room is small but the bed is big, it takes up the majority of the space besides the furniture. Billy stands off to the side, unsure of most things and questioning everything. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I can take the floor.” Robin says and Steve glares at her. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I already said I was taking the floor.” Steve whines, rubs at his eyes and glares at her again._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I’ll take the damn floor if it gets you two to shut up.” Billy grumbles. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“NO.” Steve and Robin scream at him and he puts both hands up while glaring at them._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“What the fuck ever, I just wanna pass out already.” He gives them another weird look before he face plants on his side of the bed. He doesn’t look at who settles in next to him and within minutes he’s fast asleep, dreamless and warm._ _ _ _


	15. Manifest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got to be like 18k so I decided to cut it in half.  
Warnings for All Things Neil Hargrove: he mentions he's killed someone, it's neither confirmed or denied but is taken for what it's meant for. As well as all around being a nasty guy. He only speaks that one time, gets hauled around like a pissy baby the rest of the time (until next chapter). 
> 
> Warnings for Steve having a moment of dissociation and body dysmorphia. Brief but still concerning. 
> 
> We run into some more lost kids, some more plot, a little bit of some plot holes being filled and some hand holding.  
Welcome to Florida pt 1

Steve could only see black in front of him, he could distantly hear the echo of water around him. He felt lost, couldn’t tell right from left or up from down, his senses as blinded as he was. Except he could hear, he guesses. A scuffling noise behind his left shoulder, a sharply whispered “NO” directly in his right. He jolts and turns, heart beating faster than his lungs can take in air to calm himself. 

“Hello?” He asks, going for timid but coming out high pitched and breathy. He isn’t answered for a full minute and he feels something worse than anxiety creeping up his neck.

“NO,” comes the whisper. “WRONG ONE,” it says. 

Steve can’t tell anything about the voice, who it could possibly be, if it’s Billy playing a prank on him or something. If Dustin had gotten involved in this somehow, antagonized Billy into something to fuck with Steve. It’s a gravely, low voice. Not deep like a man’s, not soothing like a woman’s. 

“Who is it?” He asks, again not immediately answered. 

“RUN.” The voice growls and Steve jumps awake in bed, still in Hawkins, still in the cabin. Dustin’s finger is an inch from his face and he grunts when Steve smacks it away. Billy isn’t in the bed beside him, in fact, the sheets are freezing cold when his hand slaps down from pushing Dustin away.

“Jeez, you’re in a good mood this morning.” 

“It’s morning?” Steve squinted at the black outside the windows and wondered if this too is a prank. His watch tells him it’s almost eight at night, he’s slept through the entire day and well into the night, jesus. 

“Hopper told me to wake you up. He said it was time we hit the road.” Dustin looks at Steve closely. “Are you okay, dude? You look really sweaty.” 

Steve smacks his hand away again, gives him a real unimpressed look before he throws the blankets off himself and stands. Robin’s still lying on the floor, looking up at him with bleary eyes. “Where’s Billy?” He asks.

Dustin squints up at him, almost too tall to have to look up at Steve and it makes him feel a little old. “He’s been awake and talking to Will for, like, two hours.” 

Steve furrows his brow, tries to think of any reasons that Billy and Will would talk for more than a twenty minute period. Wants to assume they’re combining forces and talking tactics. William and William, possession attorneys at law. God, he needs more fucking sleep or some decent coffee. He can definitely find decent coffee in Florida, as long as they go south enough. That’s a day’s drive away though, depending on how Hopper wants to play this. He wiggles his toes into Robin’s ribs and she grips his ankle hard enough that he’s sure he’s going to bruise. 

“Get the fuck off me, dingus.” She groans, rubs her fingers over her eyes and sits up. “Dibs on bathroom.” She says, patting down her obnoxious bedhead. 

“You always take all the hot water!” Dustin laments, looking to Steve for backup. 

Steve just puts both hands up, waits five long seconds then bolts down the hall to lock himself in the bathroom. He laughs at Robin’s muffled threats and Dustin’s quick “son of a bitch”. He gauges himself in the mirror, pokes at the dark circles that don’t seem to be going away, twists a long piece of hair around on his finger as he tries to volumize without hairspray. He’s found a good blow dryer but that’s in Illinois with all his products. He pisses, washes his hands, teeth and face, counts down from twenty five while he does it. Has to start over three times from the hitch in his breathing. 

By the time he comes out, a crowd is formed outside the door. Billy and Will are standing in the back, Will smiling at whatever Dustin’s saying and Billy keeps his face severely uninterested. Robin’s leaning against the door jamb, ready to push around Steve and lock them all out, so he steps out of her way and towards the other three. 

“Nancy said your mom said you have to stay here, though.” Dustin accused, looking between Billy and Will curiously, then flicks his eyes over to Steve to make the circuit again.

“Yeah, El’s going with you guys. I can still tell when He’s here, mom and Jim thinks it’s best if I stay here anyways.” Will looks up at Billy and the kid’s face changes slightly. Steve wishes he could chalk it up to some kinda hero worship or something but it’s not… that. His eyes get big and his smile gets sweeter and Steve might not know anything but he can read this situation clearly. Billy looks straight at Steve though, doesn’t waver when their gazes catch for longer than a few seconds. 

He breathes easier than he has since he woke up and it’s like Billy knows this, the small smile he gives Steve says more than Steve can read from it. But he gives his own small smile back, ignores Dustin looking between them again. Billy doesn’t say a word, doesn’t make a joke about waking up next to Steve’s face squished into the pillow or anything about Robin’s snores from the floor. He just holds up his lighter and tilts his chin down the hallway. 

Steve pushes into his space when they get outside, doesn’t question what he’s doing when he gets so close he can count the faded freckles across Billy’s nose, can see every dark eye lash in sharp relief when they flutter against Billy’s eyelids with every blink. Billy’s nose used to have a bump on the bridge, an obvious spot where it’d been broken numerous times and never set exactly right. It used to be crooked, leaning more to the left, but now it’s like that never happened. The scar on his eyebrow is gone as well, like the reminders of who he was before the Mind Flayer took him were wiped clean and Steve has to imagine the angry look in Billy’s eyes from that night at the Byers’ house. The heat there, the absolute rage, while his brows had furrowed and the scar had stood out so boldly. 

Billy’s smoking his cigarette and watching Steve. He’s not tense but he is wary, like he expects this to go down poorly or something. Steve knows their track record, knows how easy it is for them to devolve to fists and screaming instead of talking. He makes a resolution to fix that, if Billy lets him. He still hasn’t lit his own smoke so the next time Billy brings his own to his mouth Steve takes it with a slight tremble in his hands. He thinks he’s starting something that he might not be able to finish. He thinks it might take forever for himself to find an ending with Billy. He thinks that he maybe knew that as soon as the Camaro pulled into Hawkins. 

Billy has that same small smile on again when Steve meets his eyes but he doesn’t break the silence, just takes the cigarette back when Steve offers it. Steve can’t take his eyes off Billy and it seems like it’s mutual. Billy’s studying Steve’s face just as thoroughly. It’s weird how not weird it is, like this moment exists for them alone. No words need to be said, no explanations, nothing. Just the silence, Billy and Steve. 

Until, of course, Max and Dustin poke their heads into the window next to them. Until, of course, Max asks if they’re about to fight and Dustin starts singing “K-I-S-S-I-N-G” loud enough that Steve almost wants Billy to deck him just to knock him out. Hopper appears behind them and Steve wants to flee the country. 

“What the fuck.” Billy sighs, flicks the butt out into the snow and turns on his heel, leaving Steve to collect himself from whatever the fuck that was. 

He wonders, as he’s walking into the living room, if his life will always be private moments put on display. If there will always be someone looking on, camera posed at the ready, smart ass comments flying from tongues. He’s suddenly so exhausted he feels weary deep in his bones. Dustin gives him a weird look when he drops heavily into a recliner. Hopper’s got his arms crossed, back facing the window he was just watching Steve out of, looking like he’s waiting for a rowdy classroom to finally pay attention to him. He clears his throat loudly, it does the trick. 

“Jane, Steve, Billy, Robin and I are taking Mr. Hargrove with us to Florida.” There’s a heavy pause where he’s looking around the room expectantly. Steve turns and sees that Neil Hargrove is in fact still with them, sitting quietly in the corner by the kitchen. Hopper doesn’t continue and Max is the first to break the silence.

“I’m going, too.” She and Hopper have a three second stare down before Max speaks again. “You’re not taking my brother and my step-dad and leaving my mom and I without any kind of protection are you?” She says sweetly, brings a finger to her chin and fakes thinking for a long second. “Guess my mom can stay with her sister in Ohio, but then that leaves me out.” She looks up at Hopper and gives him a ‘what can you do’ face.

“Maxine-” Neil starts but a glance from Hopper alone has him biting his tongue. 

Steve wonders if Max learned that from Billy too. The grin that Billy bites down tells him that she did. He thinks, considering there’s no blood relation there at all, that Max is nearly a spitting image of what he pictures Billy being like at her age. Maybe not nearly, maybe he might not know what he’s talking about, but Max has always resembled Billy, at least to Steve, since they came here. 

“Well, then, you obviously need a scientist with you.” Dustin pipes in, eyebrows raised at Hopper.

“Oh, yeah, obviously.” Murray drones, rolls his eyes at Hopper like ‘are you fucking serious’ and then glares at Dustin. “Too many kids going seems a little too risky. What would your mom say about you missing for a week?” 

“My mom has this book club party that she’s stressing about, she won’t even notice. Plus if Steve calls and says that I’m staying with him she’d be even more clueless.” He says it like it’s that easy. It just might be. 

“You always make me lie to your mom, I hate it.” Steve mutters, wipes a hand down his face and hears Billy snort. 

“Besides, is Murray even going?” Erica asks, the first time Steve’s heard her talk in what feels like ages. Hopper shakes his head once. “Exactly, so why is he talking?” 

Murray opens his mouth to argue back but Hopper beats him to it with a dead look on his face. “Fine. Max and Dustin. That’s it. No. One. Else.” He grits out, points a finger at Mike and sighs heavily when Mike’s shoulders slump and he rolls his eyes. 

“What are we even supposed to do here while you’re gone?” Mike asks, bitchiness on ten. “Go hunting for ghosts in the woods? You see how well that landed Steve.” 

“Hey-” Steve starts.

“I’m here, ain’t I?” Billy cuts in. 

“God, you’re such an asshole.” Max says. 

“Why are you attacking Steve?” Lucas backhands Mike’s shoulder. “Don’t forget about that time at Sarah Peters’-”

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up, we said we were never going to talk about that again.” Steve nearly shouts, eyes darting to Hopper and back to the boys.

“Why were you at Sarah Peters’ house?” Max does shout. 

“This happened before you even moved here!” Lucas shouts back. Steve doesn’t say that that isn’t true, that Max was actually grounded when Steve had to pick up drunk-off-three-beers Mike and Lucas. 

“Doesn’t answer my question, Sinclair!” God, she is so much like Billy that Steve wants to laugh.

He looks up and meets Billy’s gaze, there’s humor dancing in his blue eyes and the echo of a smile pulling at his lips. Steve feels a little upset when Billy blanks his face and looks away, acts like he doesn’t care about any of it. Steve turns his head slightly and catches where Neil Hargrove is studying the room, more importantly where he’s watching Max and Lucas shout at each other. Thankfully Hopper breaks the commotion before Steve has to make even more of an ass of himself to get them to stop. 

“We ain’t got time to sit here and argue about this shit, let’s get packed, loaded and on the road.” He says to the room before he focuses on Neil. The kids disperse, following El back into the bedroom and Steve can hear Max and Lucas start up again. 

Nancy, who he hadn’t seen at all until now, walks over to him with a determined look on her face. He knows they’re still in that walking on eggshells phase, that anything they say to each other could and would be taken as an insult, he knows she wants to talk about all of it. Wants to talk about him constantly leaving, wants to talk about Billy, wants to talk about Robin even, there’s so many fucking things Nancy could possibly want to talk about that Steve’s already exhausted from it. 

“Nance, we don’t really have time for this.” He says, quietly so as not to draw any attention. Murray’s already watching them, brows raised and mouth pursed in a sardonic smile. It’s exactly how Steve didn’t want this to go, in a room full of fucking people who know their history and are making their own assumptions. His gaze meets Billy’s briefly before Billy flicks his eyes away and leaves the room. 

“I’m not trying to get into anything right now. I just wanted to wish you well and tell you to stay safe. Don’t rely on Billy too much, walkie us if you need anything. It might be impossible to get backup there swiftly so don’t get stranded in the woods somewhere, okay?” 

This was a small part of their friendship that he missed. Now it just annoys him. He can take care of himself, has been doing exactly that since she left him high and dry for Jonathan. Sure, he’s needed a helping hand but he thought that was normal. Maybe he really is hopeless in the sense that he can only provide so much for himself and is forced to rely on other people. 

“Yeah, thanks.” He sighs. “Let us know what’s going on here, we’re not entirely sure what we’re leaving behind or running into.” 

Finally the awkward conversation is over with a nod of Nancy’s head, it sends her ponytail flying around and Steve looks anywhere but at her retreating back. His eyes land on Robin and Billy talking, Robin’s face impassive and Billy looks bored. 

“Yeah, I guess that one was okay. Should’ve known you’d be a big horror buff.” Robin says, rolling her eyes when Billy gives her a knowing look. “Guess it goes with the whole satanic headbanger thing.”

“No one said anything about satanic, Buckley. I don’t like organized religion.” Billy looks at his nails, scuffs them on his sweater before giving Robin another bored look.

“My dad always said that that is exactly what devil worshippers say. Didn’t Charles Manson also say the same thing?” There is a brief pause before Billy cackles and Robin gets a cocky smile on her face. “Told you I’d win your little contest, Hargrove. Make sure you pay your debts before you decide to fuck off again, okay? I’m counting on it.” 

“What debt?” Steve asks, sliding into their conversation. Billy gives him a dry look, like he was waiting for the break in conversation. Robin looks annoyed.

“It’s a private matter, Harrington. Gotta be this tall to ride the ride.” Billy says, holds his hand just above Steve’s head. Steve straightens his back in an attempt to make himself taller but Billy just moves his hand higher. 

Steve rolls his eyes and heads back into the small bedroom the three of them shared, Robin explains loudly in the living room that she has to go back to her house before she can leave since she didn’t exactly bring a sleepover bag with her the past night. He’s picking out clothes from his duffel bag, organizing clean clothes from dirty and checking the caps on the small bottles of toiletries that he has when Billy slowly comes into the room. The air doesn’t feel tense between them, at least not with anger, but it feels awkward enough to make Steve pause.

Billy says nothing though, keeps his back to Steve as he fumbles around with his own bag and his shoulders stay slumped. His spine curves forward and his head bows down, like he’s keeping the rest of the room out. Steve crosses the room to stop three feet away from him, he wants so desperately to reach out and soothe the line of Billy’s shoulders, to grab his wrist and turn him around to see the expression hiding in his eyes. He’s always been better at expression through touch, it was something Nancy loved until she realized he truly wasn’t the best at speaking his feelings. He thinks Billy might be able to read what he’s saying through his hands but he doesn’t think he wants to lay himself bare like that. So instead he keeps the space, keeps a safe distance to Billy to evade in and takes a deep breath.

Billy sucks his teeth and glances at Steve without turning his head, expectant, like he’s waiting for something. 

“Do you think we’re going to find Eddie?” Billy asks, looks down at his hands before shaking his head sharply and looking back up. He turns completely to Steve and it makes Steve pause for longer than he intends to. Billy looks doubtful, even when Steve goes to reassure him that even if Eddie isn’t in Florida something fucking is, why else would they be pointed back there? 

“Thought you hated Florida, anyways?” He asks and he’s so pouty about it that Steve has to laugh. He’s chuckling and Billy’s face smoothes over before the same small smile begins again. He’s blushing slightly and Steve would kill to be able to get into his head.

“Satan’s armpit.” Steve agrees. “Some good coffee, though, the sunrises and sunsets are pretty nice. Think you’ll like it more’n any of us.” 

Billy nods once, looks around the room again. “My mom’s family is from Florida. Way down in the southwest part, lived five hours from Disney so we made a few trips down there before-- before. Think that’s why Florida’s a big deal? Cause I been there before? Thought this shit liked the cold, Florida is a balmy 60 on their coldest days.” 

“Guess we’ll find as many answers as we can when we get down there.” Steve says and Billy nods again. It feels like the end of the conversation so Steve grabs his packed bag and but before he leaves the room he pauses and looks at Billy’s back again. “You remember that one night, few weeks before June ended?” 

He doesn’t fucking know why he brings it up, why he’s thinking about walking around with Billy when he had broken ribs and looked so hopeless. The line of Billy’s shoulders rise, just slightly. 

“Yeah. Last normal night of my life.” Billy says, keeps his voice blank and his face down. 

“Was that-” Steve stops himself, takes a deep breath. “I’ll meet you outside in a few.” He leaves the room without looking at Billy again, keeps taking deep breaths as he makes his way ino the living room. 

He can see through the window that Hopper and Hargrove are outside, obviously arguing about something, Max and Lucas with their noses pressed to the glass and filling in the words they can’t read from their lips. He turns and sees Murray watching over the rest of the group in the living room while Joyce is flying around in the kitchen with Nancy. The kids seem to like Murray, despite him always having a comment for something even when it definitely doesn’t involve him. Erica used to talk about how sad he was, only to Steve because apparently she trusted him not to rat her out on her emotional variances. She threatened the return of lifetime ice cream if he ever spoke of their meetings. Steve has yet to miss a phone call with her. 

As he’s taking stock of everyone else Murray approaches him. A large, warm hand settles on his shoulder and Murray gives him the look. He’s given Steve the look five times before this and each time resulted in Steve being held back by Hopper so he didn’t smack Murray across the face. He has a feeling this time isn’t going to be different.

“You really think he’s going to handle this trip okay?” He doesn’t say it rudely, doesn’t sound like he’s passing judgement, in fact it almost sounds like he’s worried. He’s undoubtedly talking about Billy, Steve knows that for fact. Murray speaks so quietly, conveys his worry by getting closer to Steve and shutting the rest of the cabin out.

“I think he knows that he doesn’t have a choice.” Steve says quietly back. 

“That kid hasn’t had a singular moment of panic since we’ve been around him. Or, at least, nothing out right. He looks like he’s fucking numb. You know what they say about that? He’s ticking, Steve. He’s going to blow sooner than later, you can see it, too, can’t you?” 

“He’s… he’s had his moments of emotional distress.” Murray snorts at his phrasing. “But no, he hasn’t lost his shit like I’ve been expecting yet. He always looks so… cold, when he slips away, he just looks—? You know? We’ll be okay. Hopper has some expertise in mentally powered kids throwing tantrums, he might know something better than I can think up.” 

Murray looks disbelieving before glancing at El and then back to Steve. He nods a few times before wiping a hand over his mouth and beard. 

“Be careful. I’m sure having his… dad around will make him edgy too.” Murray shakes his head, like he’s trying to throw out a bad thought. “You’re stronger than I ever gave you credit for.” 

“Don’t get mushy on me now, Murr.” 

They share a brief laugh before Murray pats him on the shoulder and points at Erica, who’s standing on the couch and getting ready to pounce on Mike while their arguing gets to the point of a screaming match, then starts shouting at the kids. 

Steve doesn’t want to admit that he’s kinda touched that Murray doesn’t hate him or think he’s a stupid pretty boy like he’s thought he did. He knew their arguing had started off in a friendly sense, cracking jokes on each other and then making it personal when either of them needed someone else to burn. Plenty of times Steve dropped Alexei’s name on purpose to watch Murray’s face drop, to see the burning in his eyes and know he wasn’t alone. Burning for someone long gone and melting like plastic in the aftermath. The only difference is that Steve got the guy and Murray’s stayed six feet under. He wonders if they’re ever going to fight over that, if they’ll even continue trying to hurt each other or if Murray will hate Billy for ending their game. 

He doesn’t know what happened at the Hargrove house, when Neil and Hopper faced down Susan and the conversation of the Upside Down. He’s curious, but not curious enough to ask questions when he wasn’t given a taste of an answer. He knows that Hopper hates when he gets like that, like a dog with bone or a shark in bloody water. Steve’s probably driven that man so close to a stroke by now he figures he’ll be nice and let him keep his secrets a little while longer.

He steps outside, down the stairs and closer to the cars. Hopper’s winter coat nearly makes it impossible to see him except for his khaki pants. Neil’s face is white as a sheet when Steve edges around to see clearer. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t make any unnecessary noise, just opens the trunk on Jonathan’s car and starts putting bags in. 

“If you so much as touch Billy, I don’t care if you’re grabbing him to move him out of harm’s way, if you lay a single fucking finger on that boy I will end you.” 

“You don’t get to tell me how to treat my boy. You had a chance at being a father and obviously it was taken away for a goddamn reason.” Neil hisses back, teeth bared in an ugly smile and eyes burning. Steve sees where Billy gets it from, thinks Billy perfected it better than the teacher did. 

“You mother fucker—” Hopper jolts forward, hands going around Neil’s collar and shoving him hard into the side of the van. Neil grunts hard but he’s not down for the fight yet.

“You don’t know shit ‘bout Billy, Chief. Wouldn’t be so protective of ‘im if you knew half’a truth.” 

“Oh no, I read the arrest report. I damn well know ‘bout Billy. Knew ‘bout all’a ya soon as you rolled your family into my town. I know about him and it changes nothing. You’re still a shit father, you’re still the reason that boy will never respect you, you’re still the biggest piece of shit in Hawkins. Gotta coupl’a runner ups, don’t doubt that, but you get the cake, pal.” 

Neil says nothing, glares out into the dark woods, and Hopper takes his hands off his collar. He pats around his pockets and pulls his cigarettes and lighter out, glaring down Hargrove. Steve feels awkward, that he shouldn’t be watching this but just as soon as the thought crosses his mind Hopper rolls his head over to him.

“You mind keepin’ an eye on this shitstain while I get everyone else’s asses out here?” Steve just nods in response, gets a terse “thanks” as Hopper heads back to the cabin. 

He leans against the trunk, not outright staring at Neil but keeping him in his main focus of sight. It’s eerily quiet in the woods tonight, like something has the whole forest scared into silence. He’s hoping and praying that Neil doesn’t say shit to him, it just further cements in him that religion is bullshit when the man opens his mouth. 

“How’d you get dragged into this, huh? Your rich daddy got stock in alien building corporations?” Steve huffs but doesn’t answer him and the edge to Neil’s voice when he speaks again has alarms ringing in Steve’s head. “No, no, that’s right. Your rich daddy cut you out completely. I remember Louis Hall’s boy singin’ about it in the streets, the day you left town.” Neil laughs, haughty and cold. 

“You know nothing about me.” Steve says, makes himself sound like he’s bored, checks his watch and rolls his eyes when Neil takes a breath to go on again.

“Know more about you than you think I do. Know exactly the reason why you were lookin’ so hard for my son.” It lands like Neil intended, a slap to the face. Steve says nothing, keeps his eyes on the ground and waits for the rest of the blow. “Shoulda known Billy likes ‘em tall, dark and stupid.” 

Steve’s spitting in his face in a matter of seconds. “You know fucking nothing about me. You know fucking nothing about my life.” He applies emphasis by shoving a finger into Neil’s chest, repeating his motions and grinning when Neil’s eyes narrow at him. “You’re a sorry ass mother fucker and you know it, you keep talking about Billy’s interests but I’m starting to think you’re just projecting onto him. Think you make everyone miserable because you never got your fuckin’ shit together. I feel sorry for Billy, my dad might’ve not liked me but he never took his mistakes out on me.” 

Neil chuckles. “You know, the last boy I caught my son with almost died from my hand, dontcha Steve? Really think you should be gettin’ in my face now?” 

“I’m not fucking scared of you.” Steve grits out, seeing red and clenching his fists. Someone’s pulling on his shoulder, he turns to see Hopper but can’t make out the expression on his face. He sees Billy and Max standing up by the cabin, Max’s face is white and shocked whereas Billy’s is thunderous. 

Headlights come around the turn and Steve steps back, allows Hopper to step in his place. He takes a few gasping breaths when he gets far enough away from Neil. Hopper shoves the man into the van, tells Robin to follow behind him and Steve, motions to Max to go with Robin. Max resolutely stays where she is, looking up at Billy before she asks him something quietly. He jerks his head and she goes, El following after her, they meet Robin at the trunk and then Max looks at Steve before getting into the car. Dustin comes flying out of the cabin, shoves past Billy and flings himself with all his blankets into the backseat. Steve doesn’t wait any longer, shoves himself behind the wheel and turns the key, doesn’t look up when Billy slams the trunk closed and collapses in the seat next to him. 

It’s quiet for three seconds before Dustin starts making predictions of what could be happening in Florida. Billy groans and shoves the walkman’s headphones over his ears. Steve wonders if Max gave it to him or if he stole it from her. Eventually, an hour later, Dustin puts his own headphones on and crashes. Steve’s memorized the dent in the back of the beemer at this point, can see the tail lights of the van ahead of it. He knows that Billy has stayed awake with him, glanced over at him a few times he breathed louder or yawned. 

“You know you can pass out, right? I’ll wake you up when we hit the rest stop.” Steve says quietly, for all that Dustin is a loudmouth Steve doesn’t want to hear the loudmouth grumblings of waking up earlier than he should. 

“Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t pass out behind the wheel, pretty boy.” Billy sighs, no sign of teasing in his voice but he doesn’t exactly sound bored. 

“I’m good, man, I got a shit ton of sleep. You look like you haven’t slept at all.” Billy flicks his eyes over to Steve at that then they settle back in front of him.

“My mind wasn’t ready to sleep yet.” He gets even quieter, holds himself tightly, not a single breath uncontrolled.

“Been there, sucks.” He wants to smack himself, why can’t he talk to Billy like a normal fucking human? If it were Nancy or Robin or shit— even some stranger from town, he’d ask them if they wanted to talk about it or distract them from thinking about the things that kept them up in the first place. He’s good, great even, with people. Billy Hargrove? Not so much. 

“What was my dad saying to you before we left?” 

Steve can tell that this is one of those conversations where, if he pushes his luck in the right direction, Billy will crack like an open book and say some things that will tip Steve’s world around some more. He licks his lips and tries to choose his words wisely.

“Said we’re real cute together, wanted an invite to the wedding.” 

This was not the right thing to say. It’s obvious the way Billy glares over at him, shoulders inching towards his ears and face going a little red. But there’s no shouted protest, no cruel insults, no threats to beat Steve’s face in. That’s when he realizes that Billy isn’t mad, not by a long shot, he’s fucking blushing. 

“Oh my god-”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” There’s only a little bite, like Billy’s really trying to get mad but his voice is all weird around it. 

Steve laughs, a little shocked, and Billy closes his eyes and breathes in deeply.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” He mumbles, looks out the passenger window and keeps his breathing measured. 

“Okay, that’s fair, but I have to ask. He did say something that worried me a lot, and like, I don’t want you to get mad about me asking so if it’s a no-go just say that. But, uh, he mentioned he killed someone?” 

A pin could drop and it would sound like a nuclear bomb going off, Billy gets so quiet. Steve’s not even sure he’s fucking breathing anymore. He waits him out, waits for the end to come because either Billy’s going to stop the conversation— which Steve fully expects— or Steve’s going to get the entire story and so much more in explanations. 

This could be dangerous with Dustin in the backseat. 

“Can I— can we just talk about it when we’re alone?” Billy asks, voice blank and expression sad. 

“I— sure. Of course.” Probably another three hours from now. 

“Don’t know how you can drive without music on, Harrington. I knew you were pretty fucking weird but I didn’t think this weird.” 

The moment is broken but not for long. Billy asked if they could talk later, he’s not blowing Steve off and he’s not being a total dick about it either. He thinks they’re making progress, that even if Billy still is an ass to literally everyone else, at least he’s warming up to Steve just fine. That might be a problem down the road, but they’ll just have to cross the burning bridges when they come to them. Steve can be okay with that for now, he got enough sleep to last him the rest of the week. 

They change the station every few counties when the white noise comes on and Billy flinches harshly then spend the last hour before they pull off to the rest area playing license plate tag. 

“Georgia!” Steve cheers. “Bet you totally thought I wouldn’t find one but on this side of Tennessee they’re everywhere.” 

“You never cease to amaze,” Billy says, rolls his eyes and huffs a laugh at Steve pumping his fist. 

Up head, Hopper flicks his turn signal and Robin follows. It settles in his stomach, the anticipation of what’s to come when he can get Billy alone. He feels a little creepy about it, like he’s preying on Billy for information into a life he never had, almost living vicariously through it. Maybe he really was obsessed with Billy. That definitely sounds like a problem, one that he couldn’t even dream of finding a solution to. So instead of processing what he’s realizing is rapidly growing worse, he decides to throw himself off the deep end entirely. Classic Harrington.

Max is the first to throw the backseat door open in the beemer. She wastes no time running to the building and disappearing inside the restrooms. Steve turns in the front seat to rip Dustin’s headphones off, Billy laughs in his face at Dustin’s quick “you fucking monster” insult and pout to match before Billy opens the passenger door and lets the brisk Tennessee winter air in. Dustin’s quick to scramble out and race El up to where Max is coming out. The three kids count their change together before heading over to the office where the vending machines are. 

Hopper’s leaning on the passenger door, no doubt holding Neil in, and he looks exhausted. Robin’s talking to him quietly, her head nodding when Hopper replies and Steve feels deja vu for a scene exactly like this one when he and Robin met Hopper just outside of Massachusetts. The night Robin decided she was going home, going to college, and Steve decided why go home when he could go to New Hampshire and look for an empty electric company building with blacked out commercial vans. He startles when Billy elbows him, nods off to the picnic benches and wiggles his lighter between them. 

They sit quietly, smoke clouds between them, Billy’s hands shake in the cold and he keeps shooting these aborted glances to Hopper’s truck. He takes a deep breath three times, separate times like he’s trying to collect himself to speak and Steve decides to just start rambling on the off chance that it might ease Billy into it better. He doesn’t have anything to talk about that would be close to what Billy wants to talk about so he starts talking about Tommy, someone else with a fucked up life that might at least make Billy laugh.

“You ever hear about The Incident at No Man’s Land?” Billy’s gaze cuts to him then back to the same black spot below a tree it was before with a slight shake of his head. “Well, Tommy and Carol were on a break—” at this Billy snorts a laugh, so Steve knows he’s following him. “So Tommy wanted to go to a party and I heard from Missy that there was supposed to be this ‘uber cool rave party’ out in No Man’s Land. Tommy, like, lost his shit about it. 

“He was like ‘when are we ever going to do something that cool again?’ And, like, whatever, it was a party, you know? Same fuckin’ people from the same fuckin’ town, nothing different than fucking up someone’s backyard.” Billy actually laughed at that and Steve put another tally in the ‘you rule’ board he kept in his head. 

“So we get out there and there’s people fucking everywhere. Like from the surrounding three towns and some college kids, too. Crazy amount of people. Of couuuurse Carol is there, and of couuuuurse she’s macking on some outta towner. Tommy takes it in stride, they’re on a break, he’ll just give her her own medicine and then find someone better ‘cause fuck that, right? At least, that’s his logic.” Billy rolls his eyes, like he knows all about Tommy’s logic. Steve guesses he would, Tommy became Billy’s bitch as soon as he fucking could. 

“Tommy gets fucking worse than black out drunk. I thought I was gonna have to take him to the hospital, he was on a whole ‘nother level, it was messy. He’s walking around with two girls, smiling like a snake, had to’ve been the funniest shit I ever saw.” Steve swipes a hand over his mouth, grinning at the memory. He had so much shit on Tommy that he never used against him, even when he really fucking should have. 

“Anyways, they’re walking back to the cars ‘cause obviously those girls had never heard of whiskey dick, when Carol comes flying up into Tommy’s face and the only thing Tommy was physically capable of doing was laughing at that point. She’s got tears running down her face, she was high on something and having a bad trip I guess. One of the girls takes her to this tent, probably to get her fucking stoned or something to help her stop freaking out. Tommy pukes all over the girl that stayed with him, like from her chest down all fuckin’ over her.

“I guess her boyfriend had been looking for her for a while and this massive ass guy comes strolling up, like a fucking clydsdale kinda dude, and I’ve been drinking this entire time— obviously pacing myself because it was up to me to get us at least halfway home that night. So I had been drinking, was feeling all good and I can’t fight worth’a shit when I’m drinking—” Billy snorts again, quick quip locked behind his grinning lips. “Yeah, yeah, alright, Hargrove. Anyways, this girl’s boyfriend takes one swing at Tommy and he’s down, like a sack’a rocks. 

“And, like, I don’t know who the fuck this other guy is but he comes running from the woods somewhere and just tackles this fucking beast of a dude. Starts screaming something like ‘this means war’ and I’m like ‘Tommy’s not gonna thank you for starting a riot for him when he comes to dude don’t start shit you can’t finish’ but the guy just flew around like a fuckin’ squirrel or something, so I just dragged Tommy outta the way and grabbed another drink. I think we got lost out there for almost a full day after we both woke up in my car.” 

“Tommy told me so much shit about you, Harrington. Like soooo much shit, I kinda think he was, like, in love with you. ‘Steve doesn’t use that cheap shampoo, Billy, you know why? ‘Cause he’s got an oily head and it’d give him dandruff to dry his hair out with cheap shampoo. Soooo fucking pretentious, right?’” His imitation of Tommy was perfectly spot on and Steve laughed loud enough to make Hopper look over at them. 

“You’re fucking crazy.” He chuckled. 

“No, I’m serious! Even Carol had to tell him to put his fuckin’ boner for you away. We’d be doing like normal ass shit, hitting the bong and watching that fucking hockey movie he liked too damn much and he’d bring you up outta nowhere.” Billy shook his head, but he laughed before he spoke again. “He was fucking whipped about you dude, it felt like I was rebounding a bad breakup. I really didn’t even want Tommy as a friend, he just kept fuckin’ following me around.” 

“That’s how he gets you, he acts that broken puppy act too well and then you feed him once and he’s yours forever.” Steve says, over doing the sad shake of his head while his voice held only humor. 

Billy laughs again, which is another tally for the ‘you rule’ side until he closes his face off and Steve mentally empties the board entirely.

“Back in California,” He starts, licks his lips and stares down at the wooden table top under his hands. “I had a friend named Devyn. I met him in middle school, he had just moved there from Seattle, instantly fit right in with my friends so I let him slide under my radar. We did like everything together, it was kinda weird how little time it took and how close we got. Wasn’t a problem until middle of my sophomore year when rumors started flying that Dev was queer.”

“So instantly I was backing my friend, we’d hung out for years and nothing weird ever happened. Turns out I was pretty fuckin’ queer too, my old man caught on and it was like the roof of the closet I made myself was on fire. I got arrested at Dev’s house, after his old man found out about it. We weren’t together or anything, remained friends only but we knew about the other guys we were seeing at the time too. His dad took a swing at me and I swung right back, landed a juvenile battery charge that my dad was able to talk down to a diversion anger management course instead of me having to spend my summer in a kid prison camp.”

Steve knew Billy shared the same secret, had always suspected something along these lines to come out of his mouth, but that doesn’t keep the shock from bowling him over. He listens carefully, hears and reads every word in his head. There’s no miscommunication, Billy Hargrove was some level of queer. 

“I thought the ground was gonna split open with the amount of hell my old man was giving me. Like, the beat down was enough to make his point but— anyways, things got bad. Dev moved away, wasn’t allowed to give me an address to write to, I got caught with a dude, Jason, in the backseat of the Camaro by Max a few months later and that night was the worst night of my life until I moved here. Jason didn’t die, at least not immediately. Last I heard he was in a coma, but I don’t talk to any of those friends anymore so I guess he coulda died.” 

Billy’s voice was miserable, Steve was kind enough not to attempt to see his face, didn’t want to see the fear and pain there. Was reeling over the thought that Billy didn’t even know if his dad had actually killed someone, not just someone but a friend or possible boyfriend. 

“Jesus, Bill-”

“It’s, uh, it’s—”

“Fucked up, man, you shouldn’t have had to go through that. Like, I wanted to fucking kill your dad before, I got my bat in the trunk, that’ll work right?” Steve pushes himself onto his feet, stops his breath harsh in his chest when Billy reaches out and grips his arm before he could go anywhere.

“Not that I don’t appreciate it, but I think I’ll pass this time.” Billy’s face held a weird expression, like he thought Steve was funny but he was also a little irritated at the same time. “It was a long time ago and it’s not going to happen again, so there’s no need to—” 

Neither of them had noticed Robin walking over, hands in her pockets and smiling mischievously. Steve freezes and Billy snatches his hand back, forces his face blank and fiddles with his lighter.

“Hop’s gonna take El, so Max and Dustin are all yours, boys.” 

“You fuckin’ serious? Why do you get to drive without any kids?” Steve whines. 

“Hey, I brought a peace offering to sweeten the pot.” She giggles at herself. “I brought pot to sweeten the pot.” 

“God, Buckley, you’re worse than Harrington.” Billy sighs. 

“But you’re going to smoke with me, anyways, aren’t you Hargrove?” She quirks an eyebrow. 

Steve thinks smoking might actually make him feel the bone weary exhaustion he knows is creeping around the corner despite getting more than three hours of sleep. He thinks he’ll take his chances either way, enjoys the way Billy’s eyes slightly light up when Robin sparks the joint. 

“Oh shit, your tolerance has gotta be so low.” Robin says, voice wonky from holding her hit in. She passes the joint to Billy who hits it gingerly at first, rolls his eyes and then hollows his cheeks. 

“Fuck, I’ve missed weed.” He sighs, coughs once and smiles when Robin laughs. 

They pass around the joint, Billy glancing over to Hopper’s truck every few minutes as if waiting for Neil to come charging over with fire burning from his mouth. Robin tosses the roach into the woods behind them and walks back over to the group at the cars, Steve sighs when he stands again and has to stretch his hands over his head to keep his back from tensing when he sees Neil smoking just off to the side of Hopper’s truck. 

“D’you feel like driving?” Steve asks Billy, laughs at the shocked and spacey look that comes across his face. “If you’re too stoned then no biggie, man.” He chuckles. 

“No, I— I wanna drive.” He says it like Steve might take the offer back, stutters over himself before he takes a deep breath and nods once like he’s affirming himself. 

Steve just tosses the keys behind himself as he turns, smiles when he hears Billy curse to catch them. Max and Dustin are leaning against the car, Max staring blankly into space while Dustin reads his X-Men comic for the millionth time. Max snaps to when Billy rounds the driver’s side.

“Wait, you’re actually letting him drive?” She asks, incredulous, looking between Billy and Steve quickly with narrowed eyes. “Are you fucking high?” She nearly screeches.

“Shut up,” Billy hisses at the same time Steve says “It’s no Camaro, but I figured he’d still drive it okay.” 

“Steve—” Dustin starts, no doubt about to start ranting about driving under the influence.

“Look, I’m tired, I’ll probably crash us if I keep going the way I am.” Steve lies, shoves a hand in his hair and blows a breath out. “We’ll be okay.” He affirms, shoves Dustin out of the way to open the passenger door and wiggles his eyebrows at Billy over the roof of the car before he throws himself in the seat. 

Hopper’s truck starts up with a loud rumble, Robin quick to follow with the beemer’s soft purr. Steve almost misses his car, almost. They’d been through so much together, so many memories held in the backseat, but he’s glad he sold it to Robin before his dad could needle the car away from him completely. His dad took half the money, but Steve considered it a success. 

Billy takes a deep breath next to him as he turns the key and the car startles to life under his hands. Steve almost wants to make a joke, wants to say something like ‘been a while, huh’ all cheeky but bites his tongue and lets Billy have his moment to get situated behind the wheel instead. 

Dustin and Max grumble at each other in the backseat for an hour, talking about comics and writing styles, which artist was better. Steve tones them out, flicking through radio stations. The sun is getting closer to rising, sky turning pink in places among the trees. Billy stays quiet while driving, stays a safe distance from the back of the beemer whereas Steve had stayed right behind Robin. The plan was to get a room just inside of Jacksonville, Steve almost feels bad for making Billy drive through Georgia. But Billy takes it like a pro, probably used to worse traffic in California. He remembers the first time he went south of Atlanta on I-75 and really has to give Billy props for not even sweating it, doesn’t even feel anxious when they get separated from Robin for an hour. 

Max wakes up and says some smart shit that Steve doesn’t catch, but he does catch the way Billy sucks in a sharp breath. 

“Maxine, your bed head looks like a beaver made home in it.” 

“Better than the stupid look you’ve got now.” She snarks back. “You look like your homeless.” 

Billy’s hair had gotten longer, not by much, but enough to curl awkwardly. Steve thinks he could run his fingers through it again, thinks it could be long enough to play with now. 

“Listen, you little shit—” Is as far as Billy gets before Max is pushing between the seats and turning the song on the radio up.

Little Red Corvette by Prince has just started and Billy goes dead quiet again. Steve has to admit it’s one of his favorite Prince songs, he used to argue with Nancy about it being about a prostitute or a shitty girlfriend. He always thought it was about a lady— ‘or man, Nancy, don’t discriminate’-- of the night. He can hear Max singing along in the backseat but he also hears Billy humming. He’s squinting out the windshield, looks like he’d rather be listening to literally anything else but Steve can hear his deep voice hitting pitch with the song and it makes him smile. 

He covers his mouth with his hand as he looks out the window, feels like this moment shouldn’t be broken by a cheap joke, not when Billy looks more content than he’s seen so far. He sees the flash of 017 on Billy’s wrist when he switches lanes and it hits Steve weirdly. He stays quiet until they get off I-75 towards Jacksonville. They stop at the first motel they see, Hopper waiting for them in the parking lot. Robin yawns right in his face as she pops her head into the window to talk about how hellacious Georgia is and Steve can’t stop himself from shoving a napkin in her mouth, can’t help the absolute cackle he gives when she chokes and sputters. 

“See if I share with you again, Harrington.” She glares, looks at Billy like ‘can you believe this guy’ and turns back to the beemer. 

Hopper comes back out and hands them room keys with strict orders to wait for him to come see them. Girls one room and boys the other. Billy snorts at that, rolls his eyes and pops the trunk. Dustin faceplants into one of the beds and Steve stops short when he realizes there’s no couch or third bed. Billy’s already got the water going in the shower and Steve’s too tired to think about that, instead just follows Dustin’s lead and faceplants into the other bed. 

What feels like seconds later Hopper’s banging on the door and barging in when Dustin opens it a crack.

“Don’t open the door.” Hopper says sternly.

“I knew it was you, though!” Dustin argues.

“Don’t. Open. The. Door.” Hopper stresses again. 

Steve rolls his eyes before he rolls himself over to look at Hopper. Billy’s standing in the bathroom door, new pair of sweatpants on and butting up a flannel. It’s not nearly cold enough to wear it, but Steve kindly holds that back. Comfort over everything, it’s something he could get behind. 

“I’m taking Neil to the first set of coordinates. I’m just scoping it out during the day to see what exactly we’re dealing with here. If there’s nothing suspicious then we’re gonna head south tonight, time is a pretty big deal right now so the more ground we can cover then the better. Don’t leave the room, I sent Robin to get food for everyone and I’m going to wait until she’s back. Keep your connecting doors unlocked, not that it’s going to make a different with El or, uh, or Billy.” 

Billy raises an eyebrow and then nods, walks around Hopper and stops between the two beds. Either Hop doesn’t notice or doesn’t care about his hesitation because he claps Billy on the shoulder then points at Dustin.

“And absolutely don’t answer the door unless it’s the code knock, got it?” Dustin rolls his eyes then but nods and shoves his thumb towards the door. “Yeah, yeah, kid, I got it.” 

When Hopper leaves, Steve stands and grabs some clothes from his bag before stepping into the bathroom. He can’t look at Billy right now, doesn’t know what that means. He hears the window opening and Dustin bitching about Billy on the fire escape before he turns the water on and drowns it out. They slept next to each other before, just because he knows for sure that Billy is queer doesn’t mean that anything has changed between them. He’s still Steve, the kid who always gets in too deep and fights his way out. Billy’s still Billy, whoever that really is. 

He can’t stop thinking about the way Billy wouldn’t look at him when he was talking about Devyn or Jason. Like he was ashamed and scared. His voice held sturdy but his face shuttered out how he really felt about it. The pain and fear so visible that Steve was actually lost for words. He wishes, now, that he had said something. Had soothed some of the anxiety but he’s never been good with those conversations. He had literally said ‘oh’ when Robin had painted the correct picture for him. Thinks it was probably safer that he said nothing than anything that was running through his head.

When he gets out his head feels heavier than he’s comfortable with. He swipes the fog off the mirror and notices the way his ribs have become more present, the way his fingers feel longer than they’ve ever felt. His hip bones stick up at him when he looks down, his knees looking knobby, his chest looks weird, not his. He feels alien in his own body, can’t find the scar from Tommy’s BB gun on his right thigh, feels like he’s been bodysnatched. The lights flicker above him and he sucks in a deep breath as he white knuckles the edges of the counter. He’s caught looking into his own eyes, his chin in sharp relief under the shadow of his nose. The same nose his father has, large and slightly crooked. 

The soft knock at the door makes him jolt, the reflection in the mirror’s face goes cold before bony hands move his hair out of his eyes. 

“Uh, yeah?” He knows he sounds shaky, wraps the towel around his waist quickly when the handle turns. 

Billy slides in the bathroom, right in front of the mirror and closes the door quickly. He looks weird, cheeks an odd shade of pink that darkens when he looks at Steve.

“Do you ever wear clothes?” He says lamely, Steve watches him force his eyes up to the ceiling.

“You literally—” He takes a deep breath. “Okay, what, what’s happening, why are you in here?” 

“That friend’a yers is a nuisance.” Billy says quietly, and oh, okay, Billy just can’t handle Robin’s bordering on insulting jokes. No End Times problems here, apparently. Steve takes another deep breath, turns his back to Billy to slide his boxers on under his towel. 

“You learn to just ignore it.” Steve says, knows his tone is flippant but he’s trying so hard to push himself from the edge he was teetering on just seconds ago. He’s putting his shirt on when Billy sucks in a deep breath.

“What the fuck happened to you?” It’s something Billy’s said to him before, sneer in place and coldness in his eyes. Steve freezes, shirt bunched in his hands and just over his head. He looks over at Billy and he’s staring in horror at Steve’s back. 

“Oh, uh, I— I fell?” 

“Is that a question?” Billy meets his gaze before forcing his eyes away again. 

“No, sorry. I fell. The other night, outside of the cabin. Slipped on some ice, Robin had a good laugh. I kinda forgot, jeez, does it look bad?” 

He can tell that Billy doesn’t believe him, sees it in the way his jaw tenses and how he can’t meet Steve’s eyes. That’s fine, Steve wasn’t going to tell him that Billy had a level thirty nightmare and kicked him halfway across the room. It wasn’t his fault, Steve wasn’t mad or anything. Sore, yes, but it’s nothing worse than what he’s been through before. He figured he’d pay Billy back the favor on one of his bad nights. 

They don’t say anything else, Billy glares down at the floor and Steve finishes pulling his clothes on. He steps around Billy to get the door open and Robin raises an eyebrow at the both of them in the bathroom but Steve shakes his head once. She looks more carefully at him and her eyes widen. 

“Okay?” She asks when he sits on the edge of the empty bed. Max and El are up by the pillows on the other one, Dustin stretched across the end of it, they’re playing rock paper scissors over a cheeseburger it looks like. 

Steve nods, accepts the food she holds out to him and waves a burger in the direction he left Billy. He keeps Billy in his peripheral, holds the burger up for him when he steps over by Steve and then quietly sits next to him. He’s half paying attention to Robin talking about the Corvette that wanted to race her through Georgia and half watching Billy chew slowly. When Steve’s done eating he throws all the trash on the table between the beds away and lays down on the other side of where Billy’s sitting. Robin gets the hint when Steve yawns between words four times in a row. He might be exaggerating a little bit, he knows she definitely knows he is too. 

She gathers the girls up, Max tosses a dirty napkin in Billy’s face when he asks if she’d paint his toes in a valley girl accent, and then it’s quiet in the room. Dustin has always had the ability to pass out wherever he wanted and his soft snores start up before the door even closes. Billy hesitates until Steve rolls over to keep his back to him before he lays down. 

“Would you tell me what actually happened for your back to look like that?” He asks quietly and Steve sighs through his nose.

“It’s not going to make you feel any better.” 

“So I did do that, then?” His voice is distant, like he mentally checked out once Steve confirmed his thoughts. 

“You were freaking out in your sleep, dude. I know better than to put hands on someone who’s freaking out like that and I did it anyways and I got what I got.” He shrugs and Billy huffs. “Shit happens, Billy, you didn’t do it on purpose.” He rolls over to look at him and Billy shuts his eyes quick. 

“You can’t— don’t blame yourself. I shouldn’t have—”

“What, gone to sleep? Tell me about it. It’s fine, I hardly feel it. I’ve always been an easy bruiser.” 

“Don’t fucking— god, Steve.” Billy sounds like he’s drowning a bit, like knowing he hurt Steve without having the intention of hurting Steve is possibly the worst thing he’s been through. Steve gets it, he’d freak out if he’d ever panicked so hard and hurt someone in the process, but he also knows that it’s a faultless crime. He hears Billy’s breathing go ragged and looks over at him.

Billy’s eyes are still closed and Steve’s delirious enough from panic and exhaustion himself that he just takes Billy’s hand and slips their fingers together. Steve rolls onto his back, a position he fucking hates but it makes holding Billy’s hand easier, and closes his eyes. Billy’s breathing evens slowly, they both keep their eyes closed and eventually Steve falls asleep. When he wakes up he’s still on his back, fingers laced with Billy’s and he’s warm all along his side where he meets Billy’s. 

It’s easiest the best way he’s woken up in a long time. The alarm clock tells him they’ve been asleep for forty five minutes, a new record for a nap that Steve’s kinda proud of. He’d forgotten that Dustin was in the room with them, huffs a laugh when he looks over and Dustin wiggles his eyebrows above his book. He’s reading Steve’s beat up Fahrenheit 451 copy, which makes him feel warm all over because Dustin always made jokes about his obsession with dystopia whenever he caught Steve reading it. He lays his head back down and looks up at the ceiling. The AC unit kicks on and Billy stiffens next to him. Steve doesn’t look at him, just swipes his thumb over the top of his hand and breathes evenly. 

It’s something he’s done for Robin before, when she woke up panting and hoarse from a screaming fit. She hated when he addressed the problem head on, preferred acting like it never happened until she was ready to talk about it. Steve doesn’t know why, but he thinks the wild look in Billy’s eyes require the same reaction. 

Moments, long moments, later Billy’s breathing normal and squeezes Steve’s hand once before he pulls away to the bathroom. 

“You guys looked really cozy.” Dustin suggests.

“Oh, I’m sorry, was I supposed to cuddle up to you instead?” Steve laughs at Dustin’s horrified face. 

“Hopper came by, he said they found an empty building but it was wiped clean so they must’ve moved. He said he’d come by an hour before he wants to leave. He also said that Billy’s dad is, like, super fucking crazy.”

“Language,” Steve glares. 

“Whatever, you said worse shit than I do.” Dustin rolls his eyes.

“Your mom would wash both of our mouths out with soap, you know this.” 

“In case you haven’t noticed, Steven, my mother is not even close to hear any explicit language.” 

“Children—” Billy starts, eyebrows up and looking incredulous at both of them, but the knock at the connecting door stops him. No one moves before the lock flips itself and El comes stepping in.

“Billy—” She starts, eyes wide and fear stricken, she reaches out for him while Max pokes her head through the door behind her.

“Woah, hey, come on.” He soothes, lets her attach herself to him while he awkwardly raises his hands and gently puts one on her back. 

“She had a nightmare, I think. Usually she goes for Hopper but, well, you know I guess.” Max explains, crossing her arms over her chest and biting her lip to hide a smile.

The whole thing kinda melts Steve a little. The obvious anxiety written on Billy’s face makes him want to laugh, he doesn’t know how to handle kids and it’s a little hilarious. It looks like Max is thinking the same thing from where she’s still giving a weird smile in the doorway. El taps once on Billy’s forehead and he nods. It suddenly feels like they’re all intruding on something, he knows the kids feel it too if the looks on their faces are anything to go by. Steve ushers them into the other room, grabs the remote and turns the volume on the TV up over Robin’s snores. 

Some cartoon that Steve can’t focus on for more than a few split seconds plays on while Max gets comfortable in bed again. Dustin had half a mind to bring Steve’s book with him and sets up in the window to get back into it. Only Steve is left without a distraction, mind focusing instead on the possibility of monsters running around in the woods surrounding them. Florida still glows, but it’s haunting now, it’s too bright too much all at once and it feels threatening. He didn’t feel like this the first time he was here, when he was easier to threaten. But now it lodges in his throat, the leaves shimmering outside the window. Hopper comes through the connecting door minutes later, El following him shortly after.

They’re on the road within the hour, Steve behind the wheel again. The car is silent between him and Billy, the kids choosing to have piled in with Robin because ‘she plays the better music, Steve’. He’s doing fine, keeps the road in his focus and Billy drifts in and out of sleep. Something black and fast moves in the air above the car, a bird no doubt, but it sets him on edge. He’s looking for other black shapes, moving faster than he can keep up. 

Billy takes his hand off the wheel gently, laces their fingers and squeezes gently. He doesn’t say anything and Steve’s kind of grateful. They make it the last hour to Tampa, hands together, wind echoing loudly in their ears as they chain smoke. 

“Think we’re gonna find anything?” Billy asks.

“I don’t know. Do you feel anything?” Billy squints, Steve feels a weirdly warm presence around his spine and then Billy blinks. 

“Just you, nothing weird so far.” He sounds like he’s run five miles, out of breath and a little hoarse. 

They settle their things in the room and meet outside again to talk plans with Hopper. Neil’s been oddly quiet the few times Steve’s been around him, which he’s not complaining about but if he has to be here then they should probably include him, right? Surely Hopper can find a use for him instead of dragging him around like dead weight. Hopper tells Steve and Billy to follow the map he’s made and search out empty buildings closer to the national forest lines, ‘they’re marked red so you know where to actually look, Steve’, sarcastic ass. 

Neil and Billy have a little stare down before Hopper hauls him off into the motel. Max quietly tells Billy to be safe, actually what she says is ‘don’t die, asshole’ to which Billy replies ‘couldn’t get rid of me if you wanted to, fuckface’ before shoving his hand in her face and pushing her back a step. So Steve thinks that things are off to a great start already. 

They get out on a two laned stretch of road that Hopper had marked to check last. Billy laughs when Steve says he likes to work backwards so the trip back to the room isn’t so bad. They pass the hotel that Billy had manifested himself to, both of them stopping conversation completely when they pass it. Billy sucks in a fast breath and Steve goes cold at the sound of it.

“The next right.” Billy chokes out. “There’s someone waiting for— for me.” 

“For you?” Steve asks. “Dominique?” He turns the wheel tightly onto a barely used dirt road, grits his teeth through the bumps. 

“No, no. I don’t know who.” He won’t meet Steve’s gaze, keeps furrowing his eyebrows and sighing heavily.

It should scare Steve more than it does, to head into something blind the way he is. Billy can only see so much and so far ahead, but he’s a little light in this dark well they’re falling into. They get down the road, trees stopping them from driving all the way to the building that’s falling apart a hundred feet behind. It’s a set of three metal buildings connected by awnings. There’s someone, a guy that’s probably around their age, waiting patiently in front of the first building. The slamming of their doors echoes and sends birds flying. Steve stops short but Billy put himself between him and the other guy. 

The guy smiles when Billy clears his throat. It’s a warm smile, not a ‘I’m gonna kill you then laugh about it to the monsters’ smile. 

“Nice to finally meet you, eh?” He has a thick Canadian accent. His green eyes twinkle when he smiles real big. “Been trying to get your ass out to meet me, left you that pager in the woods and you couldn’t even see me.” 

Billy quirks his head like he’s curious, not worried, his posture relaxed. 

“Who the fuck’re you?” Billy asks, sounds like he’s a few seconds away from laughing.

“Ah, man, you forgot me? I was the cell over from you. We used to cry at the same time.” The guy laughs, like he’s actually finding humor in their shared torture. He flicks his wrist out to flash Billy the 015 and Steve holds his breath when Billy tenses. “You never caught my name though, man, sorry about that. I’m Ethan.” He smiles real big again, like he’s actually honored to meet Billy.

“Uh, I’m Billy.” 

“Have you met 13, yet? He was supposed to go back to the lab.”

“Lab’s destroyed.” Steve says and Billy jumps a little. Ethan looks around Billy and smiles again.

“A friend?” Ethan asks, like Billy’s loyalty is with him and not Steve.

“Yeah. My name’s Steve.” He says, steps up next to Billy but keeps a careful distance between them. Billy gives him a weird glance over, like he’s sizing Steve up before he rolls his eyes over to Ethan.

“How’d you get out before me?” Billy asks. “I remember hearing noise but I don’t ever remember seeing anyone else.” 

“Eight.” Is all the guy says. “She’s really good with distractions.” He winks, like they’re all in on a private joke. “She said you’d know where Eleven is.” 

Billy tenses the same time Steve does. Steve can tell that Billy’s going through his options here, Steve gives himself three options: they can fight— which doesn’t really make sense, the guy acted like a friendly despite how much he seems to know, plus they’re both super powered so it seems like a nonstarter anyways— or they can attempt to evade. Maybe they can bring this guy and meet Hopper somewhere? Fuck.

“I know where Eddie is.” The guy says, looking between them and finally dropping the cheerful act. “He’s in Florida but I’m not telling you where. He’s got 16, so if you’re looking to find him then I’m going with you.” 

There’s a far off screech, something that sends Steve and Billy into overdrive. Billy barks out a quick ‘go get your fucking bat’ then rushes forward to shove the guy through the door of the first building. When Steve bursts in after them, bat clutched tight in his sweating hands, the guy is shaking at the sounds coming their way. Both his and Billy’s noses are dripping blood and Billy’s breathing harshly. 

They hold their breath when loud footsteps circle the building, a screech off in the distance and then a howl. The thing outside stops moving, listens to the other screeches and then bolts off. Ethan rolls his eyes into the back of his head and chokes when he comes back to himself. 

“They’re heading west,” He gasps out. “Five of them, sticking along the forest line.” He makes a confused face. “Eddie was last here, in these buildings. He brought 16 here, she left her necklace in the basement.” 

“You gotta rendezvous point?” Billy asks quietly. He chances a glance to Steve, almost like he’s asking permission. Steve still doesn’t know if they can trust this guy. He played games to get Billy here and then talked about El, it could be a fucking trap. So Steve keeps his face blank and ignores Billy’s pissy look. 

“Here, now. We were all supposed to meet you. 14 is going to be so mad there’s another boy in the family.” 

Suddenly Steve can’t see the two guys in front of him, all he sees is black. He can hear the same low voice from his dream whispering in the back of his head and he chokes on a breath. He can’t feel his fingers or toes, feels frozen and breathing is becoming a chore. He keeps choking, blackness manifesting around him, sight blinded and hearing cut off once the voice stops. He doesn’t feel anything, just cold. He’s panicking, would be shaking if he was able to move. He’s never felt like this before and he doesn’t fucking like it, can’t fucking stand not being able to tell what’s going on or reach out to Billy for help—

Fingers find their way into his hand anyways, someone kneels down with him when his body is released and he’s gagging on the floor, the sounds echoing around and his choked off breaths loudest in his ears. He’s still breathing loud but he can hear Billy trying to soothe him under it, his thumb rubbing across Steve’s knuckles. It’s grounding, he feels some embarrassment curling in his stomach, but Billy just keeps talking quietly to him.

Steve looks up and there’s two other people standing next to the guy they just met. The girl looks chastised while the two boys get onto her for being rude. When his breathing normalizes and he can finally stand up she reaches her hand out, 014 tattoo poking out of a henley shirt.

“I’m Alexendra, sorry for fucking with you like that.” Her voice is soft, makes him relax even when the alarm sounds in his head. She stands a foot taller than him, long black hair braided behind her shoulders, her brown eyes nearly black. Steve remembers seeing kids from the reservation when he was on vacation in Miami. She looks similar, without him making any assumptions. She’s skinny, almost unhealthily so, not even Billy looked that skinny when Steve found him.

“Steve.” Is all he says, not shaking her hand for long and stepping back into Billy’s space. 

The smaller boy steps forward with a small smile. “I’m Peter.” He offers, leaves his hands in his pockets. He has an accent that Steve thinks might be from Louisiana, his skin so dark that his sweat makes him shine in the low light left peeking through the holes in the ceilings.

They’re all dressed in basic, nondescript outfits. Jeans and plain shirts, Ethan has reddish brown hair that clashes with the dark brown of his eyebrows. Peter’s hair is short cropped but wavy on his scalp, the edges framing his face nicely. 

“Nice to meet y’all, I’m Billy.” 

Alexendra tilts a curious look at him, smiles blindingly and then walks away. Steve and Billy share a look before Peter starts laughing.

“Ignore her, she has a few screws loose still.” He says. “We’re happy to meet you, both. Eight has said good things about Eleven’s family.” 

“Where, uh, where is Eight?” Steve asks.

“Following a lead in Kentucky. She’ll be here within a few days, should hope.” Peter says, he sounds young, like Dustin young, while he looks like he’d be older than Steve. 

“So this is where y’all are hiding out tonight?” Billy raises an eyebrow. 

“It’s not so bad. Better than the trees in Wisconsin.” Steve makes a face at that, it’s winter, the trees would probably be the worst in Wisconsin right now. 

Billy looks at him again and Steve sighs at the meaning behind it. They stare at each other for what feels like minutes on end but Steve knows is only a few seconds. Billy raises an eyebrow and Steve frowns, Billy pouts and Steve rolls his eyes. Billy smiles big when he realizes he's won.

“Whatever, I’ll wait in the car.” Steve eventually says, smiles tightly and nods to the two guys before stepping out and looking around quick. 

Alexendra is already waiting in the passenger seat, grinning like she knew Steve was going to cave. He wants it to be known he put up a little bit of a fight.


	16. BLURRY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is.... a lot going on here. hope it makes up for my absence! 
> 
> I'm going to have more time for writing coming up so hopefully before my retail employed ass gets completely exhausted by working Thanksgiving AND black friday I can give you another update. 
> 
> For now: enjoy a Hopper filler. 
> 
> recently added is my tumblr sideblog: @hellfirebilly 
> 
> :)
> 
> Neil drops an F slur while being physically aggressive with Billy. Just a heads up.

He knows he’s never really been a patient man, was never taught to talk without aggression or how to not use his hands to get what he wanted from someone. Wayne Hopper was not a patient man either. His father never taught him to be soft or kind, never wanted his son to be chewed up by the world and forced him to build a backbone of steel. It wasn’t until he was in the army that he met Frankie. Frankie changed everything for Jim. He was a big mouthed, no good, big motherfucker. Jim ran his mouth faster than he could chew his food, it got him in some bad places. Frankie was quiet, not stoic but expressionless during times of high tensity. Jim often asked him what the fuck he was doing, fightin’ a goddamn war overseas when he couldn’t even plant his fucking feet.

Frankie taught him to bite his tongue. His infamous mouth got his face turned black and blue by a few higher ups too many times to remember, Frankie made jokes that if he still had something to knock loose they woulda done it by now. He taught Frankie how stand up for himself. Franklin Munds from Franklin, Indiana died five feet from Jim on their last service day in the war. They were on base, completely packed and awaiting discharge when he keeled over. Doctors said he had had a stroke within the last week, that he probably didn’t know it was happening while he was out in the murky watered woods. The damage from the stroke, while severe, wasn’t the cause. A blood clot had taken the man’s life. Jim had wished he could laugh at the irony. Survive a war, barely, only to get taken out the day before you get home. 

Jim had taken the folded flag to the Munds family. He didn’t go home to Indianapolis, to his own family. He stayed in Franklin for the services then went to the VA prescribed psychiatrist in Chicago. He broke down on the phone outside of the office, told his father he didn’t know how his life could ever be normal again. He was hung up on. So he took his money, his pregnant wife, three suitcases and found one of the smaller towns in Indiana. Went through “cop school” in Chicago, worked his way through the levels and became chief, held his title proudly. Loved his town, even through the crazy bullshit beef the farmers seemed to have with each other. Sarah died, Diane left and Jim had nothing again. 

Looking into Neil Hargrove’s eyes is where Jim sees the same feeling glaring back at him. He doesn’t know what Neil’s lost, in the war or in his own home. He knows how it feels to lose a child, knows how hard it is to cope with the missing pieces. He doesn’t know what it would feel like if Sarah had had a longer life, to have been able to do those father-daughter things he wanted to do when she was 17, only to have her snatched away anyways. Neil isn’t an emotional man, or rather, he is. But anger is the only emotion he expresses. 

Jim would’ve tried with him, if he hadn’t met the man’s true self. 

Neil was sat on the forest floor, hogtied and glaring up at Jim. After Billy pulled his stunt and Neil was foaming at the mouth trying to get the kid out of his head, Jim saw who he was dealing with. Neil made threats about Billy that had his stomach flipping, turning over and wanting to jump up through his throat. Called him a faggot, a no good sorry ass sonuvabitch, mentioned Steve and that’s when Jim hauled him up by his armpits and walked him backwards to the small river. He pushed his head under and he came back choking and gasping.

“Where did you meet Eddie?” Jim keeps his voice cool, like this was boring to him. He’s sweating in the dropping temperature.

“He came to my house.” Neil chokes out. 

“What’d he want?” He asks, tone getting annoyed that Neil is making him ask every single question when he should just throw it out unprompted. 

“Wanted— wanted Billy. Wanted to find ‘im. Thought I’d be keeping that sorry mother fucker in my house.” He pulled in a harsh breath. “Asked ‘bout that kid’a yers.” 

“Oh, yeah? What’d he ask? Stop making me ask all the questions, Hargrove, or your face’ll keep on swimming.” 

“The chief of police, threatening one of his citizens? I’m sure The Post would love to run a front page article on hometown police brutality. Hear there’s a few people who’ve claimed you roughed ‘em up a little too much.” 

Hopper laughs right in his face. 

“I’ve been ‘round these parts longer than you, pal. No one is gonna blink an eye when the California piece of shit who whirled in here leaves in the middle of the night. Just gonna think you couldn’t handle small town life. I know these woods like the back’a my hand, ain’t a single soul gonna find your fucking body when I done with you. Get to talkin’.” 

“Wanted to know if Maxine knew where you’d gotten off to on your extended leave. Asked a few questions about Maxine and that Steve Harrington kid’s relationship. If he was sneaking her around under my nose.” He took a deep breath, looked just past Hopper’s shoulder and shook his head. “He asked if my wife liked our life here, knew we can’t afford to leave now. At first he said he’d keep in touch, when Maxine complained to Sue about a creepy cop following ‘er around I confronted him. 

“He made me sign a buncha papers, allowances for Billy’s body to be donated to who-the-fuck-ever runs Brenner Corps.” At that Jim’s mind flashed white hot with panic, his body went cold and the sweat rolling down his neck felt like icepicks. 

Everything after that feels like it moves in slow motion. Radioing Joyce to bring Murray over to the Hargrove’s house, going through Neil’s filing cabinet in the shed to find the papers he was allowed to keep and the ones he stole when he confronted Dominique. Neil did his own research, for whatever reason he had. Jim didn’t ask and Neil didn’t offer. There was nothing about Martin Brenner, other than his last name being the company title. No signature, nothing. Just Brenner Corps in bold black lettering atop each page. A director’s signature, Marnie Phillips. The name is entirely unfamiliar to Jim, Joyce shakes her head but Murray looks a little shell shocked.

“Marnie Phillips died, like, a week before Starcourt. She was an eco biologist from Indianapolis. She had just been hired on for a project in Florida, which was strange because once she died the project disappeared.” Murray says, one hand on his waist while he talks with the other. He’s thinking hard, brows low over his eyes. “Project Undermine, they had called it. Code named it, actually. No one had the official name of the project, in fact most of the people that were hired on were either killed from the thing at the mall or disappeared without a trace shortly after.” 

“So, we’ve got an undead superpowered kid and a bunch of scientists missing and we’re just now finding this all out?” Hopper pinches the bridge of his nose, takes a deep and steadying breath before looking over at Neil. “What’s the significance of Florida?” 

“I barely have a personal connection there. Don’t know what the deal is.” Neil blinks twice and then shoots straight out of his seat when he hears car doors closing up front. “Sue’s home from work and she knows nothing, absolutely nothing, about any of this.” He warns. Jim narrows his eyes at the other man before nodding once. 

After a very awkward and stilted explanation of why a strange man, Will’s mom and the chief of police were staying for dinner Susan pulls Joyce into the kitchen with her. Neil narrows his eyes and watches the kitchen door carefully before a few laughs echo out of the room, quiet conversations and a few sniffles. Jim figures Joyce is working Susan over, trying to figure out if she truly doesn’t know anything. He figures she’d be better with the emotional conversations than him, he barely can navigate his own emotions on the best days. The three men go back out to the shed, Neil throwing a comment of ‘talking shop with the fellas out back, you let me know if you need help’ to Susan before cooly looking back at Jim. 

Murray paces the small length of the inside of the shed, Jim and Neil are sat on car seats that are obviously for the Camaro. Jim wonders, briefly, if these were the same seats Billy had sat in that night. Can’t bring himself to walk that melancholy road when he knew the kid was safe at the cabin. He rubs a hand over his exhausted face, muscles tired from tensing and shifting to show how incredulous and furious he’s been all day. Billy’s actions make more sense now, the careful disregard for anyone who might slow him down. Jim knew he’d made a mistake when Billy didn’t question why he was giving him the charges in the basement, knew he should’ve spoken before he did anything but his mind was racing and the kid just ran off after. But Neil’s attitude and expressions makes Billy’s personality make sense.

Neil is tough and vile in the places that Billy is unsure and quiet. Billy acts like no one has ever done anything for him, that he has to take control of the things he needs done in order for them to be done properly, and it makes sense because Neil doesn’t do anything. Murray tries getting him to talk more about Dominique but he gets the cold shoulder with a ‘I’ve said everything I know’, which Jim wants to call bullshit on but he knows there’s limits. He knows that rushing Neil won’t result in anything good, he dealt with his father for thirty years before the miserable bastard died. He can deal with Neil Hargrove for a week in order to keep him from fucking things up. Instead of getting mad, or lashing out on the utter stupidity of Neil not grasping how time sensitive this is, he snaps his fingers at Murray until he pulls a map from his pocket and hands it off. Jim slams it on the workbench serving as a table.

“You’re going to point out where you met Dominique, where his offices are and around what area of town you took to find them.” He looks up at Murray. “You’re the location guy, I know maps but you know places. You’re going to make sure this shitstain gives us valid information.” 

Murray gets a dark look in his eyes, the one Hopper saw in the tunnels below the mall, the same one he had when he saw that Grigori bastard shoot Smirnoff, and he nods once. Hopper shoves out of the hauntingly familiar seat and trudges back into the house. It smells like Christmas came early but from Max’s pleas for anyone to remove her mom from the kitchen it just makes him wary instead. Joyce is sat at the table, wiping under her eyes and Susan is choking off these little sobs. Neither woman has noticed him yet so he decides to stay quietly hidden in the hall and watch the conversation progress.

“He— he never wanted me to be close to him, Billy. He always had something smart to say, not even being a little asshole, just actually intelligent and Neil never, well. He never liked me much and I think it had more to do with his daddy than me in general but I tried. I made his favorite foods on the nights Neil worked, gave him extra money for his tapes when he took Maxine out.” 

Joyce nods her head so fast, holds out a hand for Susan to clasp between her own.

“He might not’ve hated me and he, he never did anything outwardly spiteful ‘cept for one time. I didn’t expect much from him, thanks to Neil talking 'bout him so bad. But that one time, Joyce. He almost broke my heart in two. Maxine still is all torn up, I don’t know how to help her.” 

A timer goes off and Susan visibly startles.

“Look at me, runnin’ my mouth.” She wipes her face off and stands, hurries to the stove to twist the knobs and stir the contents before poking around in the oven.

“Oh, Susan, you’re allowed to be upset. Billy— dying, uh, took a toll on all the kids and all of us parents, too. Will cried for weeks, I didn’t know how to-” Joyce took a deep breath in. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you. We’re thinking about moving back, it’s been harder to stay away.” 

“Karen Wheeler offered her condolences at the services, I don’t think I much like her.” Susan changes the subject softly. “She called here two or three times, but I had just started working at the dementia center and I don’t have the time for friends.” It was the worst lie if Jim had ever heard it. She probably wasn’t allowed to have friends if the way her husband watched her like a hawk said anything. 

Jim almost feels bad for eavesdropping, thinks he’s heard enough sorrow to last him the rest of his life and well into his next one. Neil comes bursting into the house, Murray hot on his heels shouting “don’t you walk away from me-” before Neil attempts to slam the back door in his face. Neil’s eye is swelling already, red and purple on his livid face. Murray’s hand snatching the door shows his red knuckles and Jim has to swallow down a laugh. Susan asks a sharp “what the hell happened” to which Neil says a wrench came up when he tossed it down as he yanks the freezer door open and slaps a bag of frozen peas onto his face. 

They sit down to eat and it’s awkwardly quiet, forks scraping against plates. Jim can’t even taste the food, he’s thinking about how he’s going to get out of this without Susan knowing what Neil knows. Doesn’t think she’d believe them if they said they were going out for drinks after, can’t think of any way he won’t raise a red flag. It seems like Neil is going to make the decision for him.

“Now, Sue, what I’m about to tell you stays between the four of us, you hear?” He says it slowly, like he’s talking to child and Jim can tell that’s got Joyce on edge already. 

“Neil, I’m sure whatever it is can wait—” She passes around a panicked look to the three of them before looking back to Neil. 

“Billy’s alive. He’s been alive.” She chokes and sputters, hands gripping the edges of the table so hard that even her beige nail polish seems to turn white. “He’s staying with Mr. Hopper at the cabin.” 

Her eyes flicker over to Jim and then down to her lap where she’s moved her hands. She says nothing for a long time, before snapping her head up to Neil’s gaze.

“You knew?” She asks quietly, like she’s blocking out the other people from their conversation. “You knew and you let Maxine— you let me—” She cuts herself off, breathing deeply to bring her composure back. She stands gently from the table, empties her plate before setting it in the sink. She places a hand on Neil’s shoulder, squeezes almost painfully, before she walks down the hall. The door slams. 

“You are one dumb motherfucker.” Murray says, shaking his head. “We had a control on this whole—”

“Maybe this is better?” Joyce offers, glancing to Jim with wide eyes. 

Jim shakes his head and uses his napkin to cover his mouth for a few long seconds. He can’t see how this is going to help. Susan was the one person involved who had plausible doubt, who was around for all of it but truly knew nothing. He can’t see any good in ruining that. He watches Neil’s jaw get tight, watches him glare down at the plate before he flings it across the kitchen to the wall above the trash. Down the hall Jim hears the muffled shout of Susan screeching her husband’s name. 

It’s a long twenty minutes of the three of them standing outside and listening to the Hargrove’s fight. Eventually Susan bustles out of the door, pulling her coat on harshly before meeting Jim’s eyes dead on.

“I wanna see him. I wanna see Billy.” 

The conversation in the van is tense. Jim explains that he found Billy in the woods, well, that Steve actually found Billy in the woods. Susan gave a deep sigh at that, which Jim wanted to ask about but figured Neil being involved in that conversation would be a non-starter. Jim explains that they didn’t know where he was before or what happened to him, but he showed back up in Hawkins and it wasn’t safe for him so they hid him out at the cabin. It quickly devolves into Susan and Neil fighting, ends in Susan demanding a divorce. 

It shocks the whole van, needless to say. 

“I might not have helped your son when he needed me to but I sure as hell am this time.” She declares, juts her chin out when Neil opens his mouth to talk and crosses her arms over her chest before glaring icily at him. “That boy needs someone with a caring bone in their body, at least Mr. Hopper’s family has been kind enough to do it for the moment.” 

“You don’t know my--”

“I know every nasty thing you’ve said about him while we’ve been together, Neil. I know a good portion of who he is and I want nothing for him except growth. He’ll never grow around you.” 

Jim thinks his conclusion of Neil pushing Susan around might’ve not been the most accurate. Neil might be controlling but obviously Max got her fire from somewhere. She’s firm in the way she talks, makes no room for error or argument, glares right back in Neil’s face when he starts spitting venom. Still, the reason she kept her mouth shut about Billy’s treatment for so long is unclear to Jim. She has no problem standing up for the kid now, but where was this before the bruises were even made? He thinks, maybe, this might be her guilty conscience. 

He can see from the look on Joyce’s face that she’s thinking the same thing. Before Susan can fling herself from the car and up the porch to where Billy and Steve are sitting, he confronts her about the apartment off Main. He offers it to her, knows that Neil isn’t the kind of man to go down without a fight so he knows that Neil leaving his house to Susan is improbable. He gives her a safe space to take Max, lets her know how to get the keys for it and that furniture and bedding is already set up inside, she would just have to update it if needed. She’s teary eyed before she even gets to hold Max or see Billy clearly.

The next few hours seem to fly by, the kids scream and holler and laugh like the world isn’t going to end. Jim almost wishes he could enjoy the feeling, the warmth they all bring, could make jokes to Joyce in her ear and listen to her quiet laugh the rest of his life. 

Billy has this hunted look on his face every time he sees, hears or feels Neil. So, basically, he’s miserable looking the entire time and that makes Steve almost unbearable to be around as well. He can’t stop watching Steve watch Billy. They have a quiet language of their own, where Steve will tilt his head and blink quickly twice and Billy will roll his eyes and nod once. He sees Nancy watching them as well, a furrow between her brows that evens out when Jonathan whispers something in her ear and she sighs. Billy mostly keeps his attention on Max, watches her like a hawk, his eyes darting between her and his dad. 

Jim knows enough about Billy to know that he’s not so much worried about Max but about what Neil might do when he sees Max’s interactions with Lucas. Thankfully, the stupid mother fucker keeps his mouth shut, he might glare a little too hard at the kids, but he doesn’t say a fucking thing. Jim sends the kids off to bed, sends Billy, Robin and Steve off to the last room. He vaguely remembers the day the kids and Steve came over and helped him build the extra bedrooms. It was almost a year to the date after Starcourt and things had been going down quickly. Their hiding spaces were being weeded out and the cabin was one of the last places they could escape to. They built the extra rooms, got to enjoy them for two weeks before the cabin was snuffed out. That was when Jim finally left Hawkins, joined his merry band of misfits in Illinois. 

Sleeping that morning is hard for him. Joyce sniffles in her sleep every time he rolls over. He can hear Neil and Murray talking in the living room, Susan long gone after being taken home by Joyce. They explained that Max was going to go to Florida with them on demand of Billy. Susan was fine with it as long as Billy took responsibility and they called twice a day to check in with her. It seemed too easy after that. But sleep evades Jim, not caring that the has an almost eighteen hour drive ahead of him accompanied with the most annoying shitstain in all of Hawkins.

When he finally sleeps he’s back in the Upside Down, but this time not as a visitor. He’s reminded of his three week stint of being stuck there, of stumbling around Upside Down Hawkins and hearing vague voices of the kids, hearing Joyce mumble something behind him but never being able to see anyone. Jane never saw him, he was stuck in a pit. He checked every possible place for a gate, an opening in a tree or a hole in the ground, he tried to get himself out of that hell. He hid from shadows that he wasn’t sure actually moved, froze over every echoing sound, kept himself so quiet that he was scared breathing alone would get him caught. But it was fruitless, he was stuck and it was getting more and more bleak the longer he was stuck there. It was Kali that eventually came to him. Kali introduced herself in the void to him, she said that Jane’s powers were weakened, said she’d help him because Jane called him family so technically that meant they were family or at least familiar. 

Jim came back from the Upside Down and found out Billy Hargrove had died, his family moved away and Eddie Dominique was attempting to take over his town. It was a rude awakening, that’s for sure. He jumped right back into what he knows, what’s real, he stopped thinking about the shadow of the monster that he hid from constantly between Earth and Hell. He didn’t mention to anyone how scared he had been but he knew that Will and Jane had picked up on it. Kali had brought him home, gave him a phone number for “emergencies only” and asked him to pass on her well wishes to Jane. She disappeared into the night. 

He picks out the wireless phone he keeps in his duffel bag, pulls the small paper holding the phone number from his wallet, sneaks out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen before exiting the cabin entirely and dials. He waits a long time before he presses the call button. It rings and rings, finally disconnects. No answer and no answering machine. He wonders if she gave him a bogus number, if that was a test and he failed. He thinks about the pager that’s sitting by the cabin door, thinks about the three sets of coordinates they’re going to visit, wonders if Kali has any way of knowing what’s happening. 

They make it through just fine. Georgia is always a bitch to drive through, Jim looks in his mirror and realizes he’s lost both cars that were following him and huffs a sigh. Eventually Jonathan’s old car finds his bumper again and he sees that Billy’s driving, not Steve. It makes it easier to push through to Jacksonville than before, to see the kid’s head bopping along to something on the radio, the faces he makes while talking to Steve and the kids. Eventually Robin comes back into their line of traffic and Jim focuses on finding a flop house of a motel that they can stay under the radar in. 

Jim thinks Florida could be a great spot to retire to. If he liked golf and alligators. If he liked the heat. He might like the heat but he hates, fucking hates, the humidity. He’d sent Steve and Billy off, couldn’t take another long fucking drive with Neil sitting right at his side. At least at the hotel he’ll call Susan, take a shower, and if he doesn’t sleep he’ll drink beer while glaring out the window. He tried once to leave and Jim had tackled him, used his entire weight and made it perfectly fucking clear that he was to stay in the room or he’d be under arrest or, worse, dead. 

He thinks they have an understanding now. 

The lights flicker around him while he’s in the bathroom and it throws him back into that space. The space between here and hell. The space he narrowly escaped. He almost misses the anxiety meds. Everything goes fuzzy silent around him, war flashbacks of another dimension meshing with war flashbacks of another country. Gunfire explosions mixing with echoey screeches, ichor oozing around black veins and ash floating around in front of his eyes. He doesn’t know how long he spends shaking on the bathroom floor, can’t keep track of the breaths that are coming too fast. His chest aches, his ribs feel like they’re seconds away from expanding and snapping in half. It’s been at least five minutes since the last time he thought about time, he’s still panicking and it’s scaring him more than he thinks it should. He used to live on the knife’s edge of a panic attack before all of this other dimensional bullshit started happening, he doesn’t understand how the panic know is breaking him worse than the fear is. 

A soft knock on the door makes him jerk. Too soft to be something from Neil Hargrove, he’s sure, he doesn’t want that conversation anyways. Can’t imagine explaining to a cold man like that how he’s feeling. The door handle jiggles, not locked but also not opening, warning enough that someone wants to come in. 

“Jim.” El says, almost plaintively. She had been getting better about inflection through her tone of voice, getting better with her sentences and how she speaks her emotions. Jim’s so fucking proud of her he talks a sharp breath it, grinning slightly.

“Yeah, kid, c’mon in.” He rasps. The door opens slowly like she’s not quite sure what she’s going to find. She closes the door quickly but quietly when she sees him in a heap in front of the tub.

“Scared?” She whispers, her eyes are wide and her mouth is set in a grim line. She looks so concerned that Jim almost starts sobbing right in front of her.

“No, not anymore.” He knows his tone is a bit too slow for the emotion he’s trying to convince her of. Her face looks doubtful as she puts a palm to his forehead.

“Sweaty. Little warm, Jim.” She sighs.

“Hey, phrase your sentences right.” His voice isn’t as stern as he usually makes it, the stern voice she knows means absolutely nothing because while he holds her to her consequences she damn well knows that he’s wrapped around her little fingers.

She rolls her eyes at him before sighing, put upon and falsely annoyed. 

“Billy’s back.” She says it gently, like she’s picking and choosing her words wisely. “He brought people. Friends.” 

She sighs when Jim so rigid on the floor. 

“You-you mean?” He licks his cracked lips. “D’you mean--”

She taps the inside of her wrist, right over her tattoo. Her identifier. He balks, already having the notion of what she was meaning but the reality hits him hard. He grunts as he pulls himself up, narrows his eyes at Neil when he walks back into the room and pushes El out of the door before turning back to the other man. 

“I’m going to be dealing with some things, I expect you to say right here while I’m gone. If I find out that you left this room or you aren’t here when I get back there will be so much more than hell to pay.” 

“Your threats don’t scare me, Hopper.” Neil sounds bored, but the slight shake of his hands tells Jim that the point got pushed across. 

He rolls his eyes and grunts, opens the door to find El standing there and watching down the hall. There’s a cacophony of noise coming from the girls’ room, Robin screeching something out and Steve’s voice yelling over hers.

“No warning or anything! You don’t even know anything about them, especially how they’re connected to the Mind Flayer--”

“They’re nervous, Robin! Billy’s still outside with them and if you wouldn’t fucking mind I’d like to not LEAVE HIM ALONE WITH THEM--”

“CAN’T BELIEVE YOU JUST BROUGHT THEM HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE--”

Jim clears his throat in the threshold of the room and wants to laugh at how still Steve gets so quick. Steve turns quickly on his heel, gives Jim a stormy look and waves a hand at Robin over his shoulder as he shoves into the hall and turns towards the stairs. Jim just jerks his chin towards the hall and Robin sighs before slipping her shoes on. El’s got a small smile on her face and she shakes her head when he raises his eyebrows at her. 

Billy’s standing outside of the car, smoking and pointing with his cigarette, Max a few feet away from him with her arms crossed over her chest. There’s two boys leaning against the side and a very tall girl walking through the thick of the trees behind the car. Dustin’s standing by Robin with a weird look on his face, glancing quickly at the space Steve carefully keeps between himself and the other three people. He stops a few feet away from Billy and waits until the kid turns to look at him. Steve’s off to the side, taking a few more steps back when he looks up and then pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer while taking obvious deep breaths to calm himself. 

“Uh, hey.” Billy says lamely, hand coming up to grip the back of his neck. “So we kinda ran into these guys--”

“They kinda ambushed us.” Steve corrects, slightly hysterical. 

“Right.” Billy shoots Steve a weird look. “But they’re, uh, looking for Dominique.” 

Jim bites his tongue. He’s tired and annoyed and exhausted from the slight panic attack he just had. He wants nothing more than to go upstairs, turn the tv on and fall asleep. Instead he just sighs heavily and lights his own cigarette.

So he meets Peter, Ethan and Alex. Peter, number thirteen, is fifteen years old. He’s from Shreveport and his dad kicked him out of his home for being gay. Billy’s face when he says this does a weird ticking thing, his eyes glance up to where Neil’s shadow is hovering in and upstairs window. It only confirms what Hopper’s been set sure on, the stone in his gut levelling. Peter went to a clinic near Baton Rouge, after taking a nearly ten hour bus ride, that his friend’s cousin had gotten free housing through a few months before that time. He said there was a group of people in the lobby of the clinic who were offering cash rewards for plasma and blood donations. They offered to make him false identification so that he could safely donate through them, offered to take him to their warehouse where they would print it right there and then go two buildings over to donate.

Peter didn’t know that gay people were considered more than a social disappointment then. By the time he picked this knowledge up he was locked in a cold room with a metal cap on his head. He said it burned when they injected him with the blue liquid and Billy winced in reply. He talked about shadow figures that haunted the halls, of weird alien creatures with too many teeth. He says he can hear thoughts, he doesn’t even need to be looking at someone. Jim blanks his mind at that but Peter just smiles at him. 

“You’re nervous about us. It’s understandable.” He says quietly. Jim sees how young he is, he looks like he’s younger than El even though they’re the same age. “I’m used to the constant voices, anyways.” 

Dustin asks ten million questions, glances around at everyone and then pulls Peter aside. Their heads are bent together and both of their mouths are moving a mile a minute, seemingly hitting it off. Mike’s gonna be furious that Dustin’s making friends with someone before he can vet the kid, Jim can already hear the screeching. 

Ethan jumps in next, once the words started coming they didn’t stop. He had just graduated, left Toronto for New York and met a peculiar group of friends his first month in college. They had decided on a camping weekend, something that Ethan used to enjoy back home. He didn’t know the trail they were taking, didn’t know the park they had gotten locked into that night. He saw weird men in all black suits using devices to scour the ground and a few of them started running after him and his new friends. One of his new friends tripped him and the men in black caught up to him. He’s twenty two now, his mom passed away from a heart attack after his funeral and he brought a dead dove back to life in the same cold building that Billy was in. 

Alexendra lived on the Miccosukee Reservation off Alligator Alley, ‘near Miami’ she had said. People had been going missing for months before the night of the raid. It was typically the elders, the weakened and ill people. Then it was children. Jim doesn’t remember seeing or hearing anything about missing people around Miami, no mentions of possible sex trafficking or otherwise. He thought he’d been keeping a good enough eye around for any possible signs. He should’ve known better than to just assume things would make themselves obvious to him, even after learning about the army the Mind Flayer was building through Billy. 

She tells them about her mother changing her blessings, how desperate they were getting to resolve the kidnappings, about the curfew that was put out and the places in the Everglades that they had sworn off of. Tells them of sightings of large black shadow figures out in the swampier parts, that not even the gators would travel there. The night of the raid was the quietest the woods around them had been, not even the mosquitos were hanging around being nuisances. She says she woke up to fires and gunshots, tried to find her family but a big white man pulled a cloth over her face and pushed her out of her home. She’s seventeen, speaks wiser beyond her years but there’s a certain kind of innocence surrounding her. 

Jim spends a few minutes rubbing his jaw after she stops speaking. He truly doesn’t know what to say. The other kids, the ones that El had been brought along with in the lab, had either vanished or died. The scarce records he had found once the lab had been properly shut down were atrocities to get through. There were more dead children files than scientist notes, it had almost taken him straight over the deep end when he had sat down, one night after El had put herself to bed, drank his beer and carefully read through each page. 

Kali was the only person he knew was alive, had physically had contact with, that hadn’t been in the files at all. He thinks maybe they might need her more than ever now, if only that number had actually worked. 

“Kali is comin’.” Peter says quietly. “Think she might have more’ta say ‘bout this than we can.” 

Ethan shoots the kid a sour look and Jim feels his hackles rise. Billy snorts at Jim’s face before Steve smacks his arm and he makes a slightly chastised grunt. 

“So… okay.” Jim takes a deep breath, rubs over his jaw again. “So we have any idea where Dominique is? And not the vague ‘could be Tampa, could be Miami’ that seems to be the general consensus.” 

“He’s here. Somewhere in the woods here.” Ethan says. “I could feel him earlier. It was… strange how he felt. He has one of ours so time really is a pressure right now.” 

“One of yours?” Jim asks, creeping on incredulous. 

“Naomi. She’s not even five years old.” Alex says quietly, her eyes somber and voice grave. “She was ill, her body wasn’t taking to the injections. We lost her after our last run in with Dominique.” 

Billy makes a choking sound and when Jim looks over he’s having a silent conversation with Steve again. He makes a cutting motion with his hand and then rubs his eyes harshly. Steve nudges his elbow into Billy’s ribs and waits for Billy to meet his eyes before he pointedly looks at Jim. 

“Naomi is his daughter.” Billy says to the ground, refuses to meet any of the eyes that are on him, won’t see any of the gaping expressions directed at him. Robin makes a soft noise and Steve shakes his head once. The whole interaction leaves Jim feeling a little hollow.

He thinks it’s such bullshit, the constant insecurity and instability this life leads. All he fucking wants is to be with the woman he loves, with the not so small family they’ve made between themselves, to have the safety and stability of a life well maintained. He’s had this exact thought plenty of times before he ever loved Joyce, before his daughter died and his life ended itself on a whim, before he was stuck between worlds and forced to leave the small shred of his security behind. He’s thankful when El places a gentle hand on his arm. 

“Marnie Phillips was an eco biologist that died around Starcourt. Her obituary said she left behind a daughter, a four year old that wasn’t named.” Jim rasps. It stings, the idea that either Dominique or his wife had gotten involved in something above their heads and their family paid the ultimate price. 

“How did you find that?” Dustin asks, brow furrowed. 

“Neil had some files he had stolen stored in the shed.” Jim says tiredly. “He took them the last time he met Dominique in his office.” 

All at once, the five experimented kids around him go deathly still. El’s eyes are wide with fear when he looks down at her. He gets a nauseous feeling when he looks over to Billy and watches his chest rise and fall quickly, Steve hand clamped on his shoulder tightly. Alex and Ethan are looking at each other while Peter bends and puts his head between his knees. 

“What’s going on?” Max asks gently, eyes circling between Billy and El. 

“He knows Billy’s here. And that we’re together.” El says, her voice cracks once and Jim wants to weep with the fear creeping through her voice. 

It takes twenty minutes for everyone to calm down enough to make a half cocked plan. Dustin surprises him by voting they deal with this tomorrow, Max unsurprisingly arguing that that is a stupid idea. In that twenty minutes he forces Neil to get his shit together and calls Joyce.

“Hey, honey.” She says warmly into his ear. 

“Sweetheart.” He sighs out, pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. Lets the warmth of her voice ease the tension building in his shoulders. “God, it’s good to hear your voice.” 

“Oh, Hop, what’s going on?” He can tell she’s getting anxious, he knows she’s been anxious while he’s been hiding her away. He feels cruel, to lock her and the kids up and he knows that she understands his thinking on this but the fact still remains that they never know if they’ll ever be safe again. 

“Think we found ‘im. There’s-- there’s a group of kids, well, two kids a toddler and a twenty something. They were experimented on, all of ‘em kidnapped or groomed to be test subjects, Joy, I can’t-- it gets more and more fucked up the more this happens. I don’t understand how we keep fighting this and it keeps coming back.” 

“I can be there as soon as tomorrow morning, Jim, don’t rush into anything, please--”

“We gotta-- Joy, we gotta go tonight. I can’t keep these kids here, not when they’re lookin’ for this fight.” 

“I-- okay, okay, I can’t make these decisions for you. Just, please for the love of everything, be careful? Call me as soon as you can, I’ll be waiting.” When Jim grunts an affirmative Joyce sighs. “How’s El? And Billy?” 

“El’s… anxious. She won’t say much but she’s picking at her nail polish so I know it’s weighing on her. Billy, honestly, I can’t fucking tell. One second he’s ready to breathe fire and the next he’s blanking out and I don’t know what to say to him to help him think this through.” 

There’s an incredibly loud thud from the hall outside the room, he’d sent Neil out so he could talk to Joyce so there’s no one there to share a quizzical look with. 

“What the hell was that?” Joyce asks, voice shaking. 

Another thud and a muffled shout, Jim drops the phone and yanks the door open to find Neil pressing Billy up against the wall.

“You just can’t fuckin’ keep yer goddamned mouth shut, can you, William?” Neil spits into Billy’s face. He’s slurring like he’s past drunk and heading for blacked out.

Jim can see Billy’s shoulders trembling, his chest rising too quickly. There’s a red mark on his cheek, Jim already can see the bruising forming on Neil’s knuckles. Billy’s got a few tear tracks down his face, but what concerns Jim the most his how vacant his eyes look. He’s seen that same vacancy in the eyes of the men he fought alongside in the war. Knew his eyes held that vacancy before he found help. Jim’s frozen in place for long seconds, it feels like years. He sees the way Billy recoils with each insult spit in his face, like they’re physical blows that he can’t stop. 

“Stupid faggot ass--” is as far as Neil gets before Billy is reaching up and shoving the man back by his forehead. The next thud is the solidity of Neil’s head meeting the drywall behind him. 

Jim finally can move his feet by the time the door down the hall opens and Steve comes spilling out. Billy’s swinging at air, missing Neil by split hairs, and when Steve pulls him back he narrowly misses Billy’s fists as well. 

“Get the fuck offa me!” Billy growls, lurching back and shoving his shoulders into the opposite wall. He stares at Neil for a few seconds before Hopper steps between them. 

“Go get some air.” He says to Billy and waits until he nods before turning to Neil. He hears Steve sigh and move once Billy does but he doesn’t take his eyes off Neil. “Do you remember what I told you? When we were out in the woods?” 

“Told you, Hopper. You don’t fuckin’ scare me.” Neil sneers. 

Jim punches him twice, knocks him out with the first and the second was to blow some steam. He leaves Neil in the hall, slams the door behind him and picks the phone up off the floor.

“Please give me a few good reasons on why murder is bad.” He mutters.

“Oh, honey.” Joyce sighs.


	17. REGRESS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, wow, hello!! lots of crazy things have been going on. I am not quite happy with this chapter and unfortunately won't have the time to get a second update posted when I thought I would be able to. 
> 
> I don't know why this got as angsty as it did but we're going to roll with it and cry for Billy. 
> 
> this chapter was also named Do Your Demons Let You Go, in case you, you know, wanted a glimpse into the angst ahead.  
:)

His breathing is ragged, sharp and wet and painful sounding. It’s sad how familiar panic is, he thinks, sad that it almost feels like he’s returning to how life was before-- before he even came to that shithole town in bumfuck Indiana. He feels small, weak, fragile. Like the past year never happened and he can’t destroy everything with his fucking mind. Like one scathing remark from his dad is still enough to bring him to his goddamn knees, sucker punch the breath from his lungs and shock him into shutting up and taking it. He always was too weak to say anything else once the damage started, could run his mouth better than anyone before the hits started coming, he encouraged it even. 

He’s choking on air and Steve is still standing behind him, but he can’t face him. He can’t turn from the rough edges of the woods behind the motel to face Steve, can’t even imagine the look that he would find in Steve’s eyes. His eyes are jumping from tree branch to tree branch, trying to find something to bring himself back in and control this spiraling. He wants to be self conscious, wants to be pissed off that somehow Steve fucking Harrington is always first row for his emotional displays. But it seems moot now, it seems so pointless to hold onto that that it might even be detrimental to the whole process anymore. 

Steve knows how to handle Billy like this now, apparently. He lets Billy ignore him but steadies his own breathing, sets a breathing pace that Billy can listen to and eventually pick up himself. He knows not to touch Billy like this, when he’s seething with every emotion that’s running through him. He waits, eerily quiet and unbearably patient as it takes Billy longer minutes to collect himself. He doesn’t know what to say, how to thank Steve for what he always seems to do. He feels awkward in his own skin, a buzzing sensation on the back of his neck as the wrongness vibrates through him. 

Alexendra comes from the treeline, mouth set in a grim line. Ethan comes around the side of the building the same time she lifts her head up to look for him and Billy marvels at the familiarness in their actions. 

“Did you feel it?” Ethan asks quietly, eyes flicking over to Steve and Billy before returning to her.

“I think it’d be impossible if I didn’t.” She scoffs, crosses her arms over her chest and looks down at him. “He’s closer and he’s not happy.” She looks Billy dead in the eye and he flinches. 

“We need to cut him off halfway before this becomes a tourists’ extra terrestrial nightmare.” Ethan sighs.

Billy looks at Steve, finally. His eyes are wide with worry and fear, bottom lip clutched between his teeth while he takes in the scene around them. 

“What-- what did you feel?” He asks, ignores the looks given to him before he sighs. “Look, I’ve been involved with this shit for years. I know more shit than I should. I just want to be able to keep up and help if possible.” 

“The shadow demon--”

“Mind Flayer.” Max says, stomping over with El and Dustin hot on her tail. Hopper’s pushing the door open to the stairwell and shouting after them. 

Alexendra gives her a strange look before nodding once. “The Mind Flayer is desperate in it’s search for us. Knowing we’re here but not being able to actually find us is pissing it off. It can sense us so we can sense it but I’ve been hiding our trails. Unfortunately it takes a lot out of me and I can’t do it for much longer.” 

“We need to find it before it finds us.” Peter says, he says it like he’s sad but Billy can see the fear all over the kid’s face. “Before Alex is too weak to fight with us.” 

His mind goes white hot when Max steps into the odd half circle standing around him and his stomach clenches. He throws out a hand and grabs Max’s arm, tight, ignores her hiss of pain as he jerks her back and around to look at him.

“And just what the fuck do you think you’re doin’?” He says it lowly, dangerously, lets it seep into his voice and settle in his chest how dangerous he feels in that moment. 

But Max was never one to ever listen to Billy, charging ahead and making her decisions and leaving him to fuck off with the rest. She jerks her arm back but when he doesn’t let her go she tilts her chin up until she’s looking down her nose at him and huffs a sigh. 

“Don’t be an idiot.” She warns and he wants to laugh in her face, laugh so mean and shove her off to the side but instead he takes a deep breath and clenches his jaw so hard his teeth grind. 

“You’re not goin’ anywhere that thing might show up, Maxine.” He hates the way his voice cracks when he says her name, knows she can see through the front he’s putting up and his fear is paralleled in her eyes. 

“What did I just say?” She demands, squints her eyes at him. 

He sighs through his nose. “Don’t fuckin’ start with me, man, I’m serious about this. You and the other punk ass kids are staying here. I don’t care--”

“Billy.” Jane intervenes. “No time, have to go.” She taps his knuckles over Max’s arm and raises an eyebrow at him. She looks totally nonplussed, like this is boring her and Billy’s the kid that’s fighting to go on the near death experience field trip.

He looks helplessly over to Hopper, who only shakes his head once. Neil’s leaning against the van, scuffing his tennis shoe on the pavement and looking up at the sky. Billy’s next breath rattles around in his ribs before he can choke on it. 

“No.” He says dumbly. “No fucking way.” He glares at Hopper. 

“Can’t just leave ‘im here.” Hopper shrugs. 

Billy’s lost faith in who he was thinking he could trust. Max pulls her arm back and walks straight up to Alexendra, Robin makes a concerned noise behind Billy that he almost reciprocates when Alex puts a hand on Max’s head. 

“Hair of fire and eyes of ice.” Alex says, tilts her head and smiles big at Max. “My mother used to tell us stories of women like you, fast like panthers and sharp like knives.” 

It’s pointless to try and keep Max away from her at that point. El and Dustin pull Peter to the van and crowd in the back while Hopper says he’s going to follow them. ‘Them’ being Robin, Billy, Steve and their two new friends. Max rolls her eyes when Billy makes her get into the van with the other kids. Ethan’s got a sardonic smile on his face when Billy meets his gaze before slamming the door on the backseat. 

Robin’s driving, due to Steve’s insistence. Billy’s sandwiched between Alex and Ethan in the back, fiddling with the button on the wrist of his jacket, anxious beyond belief. Alex starts them west, heading deeper into the darkened woods until she has Robin turning on a beaten dirt path. It’s a trail, not quite used by cars but wide enough to maneuver down. 

The buzzing in the back of Billy’s head gets more noticeable by the miles, nearly painful as they round a bend that leads to a three story abandoned building.

“Bingo.” Jane’s voice reads through the radio and Robin jerks in the front seat. 

“Jesus, it never gets any easier.” She sighs and Steve just rolls his eyes at her like ‘yeah, tell me about it.’

When Billy gets out of the car, he can feel the pulse of the Upside Down coming right side up. It sets a new kind of tension in him, feeling the difference in five feet of distance where the crickets and cicadas are screeching into the night to the freezing quiet that’s embracing them now. There’s a dull thud and an echoing chirp, Billy can smell the monsters, reminiscent of the lab that was covered in vines and floating ash. He’s got goose flesh all the way down to his feet, sweater rubbing awfully against his back and toes curling in his boots. 

The building is half destroyed, wood and steel cracked open revealing a staircase and an empty foyer. Alex, Ethan, Peter and Jane all look fine but Billy feels like the pressure is trying to crack his skull open. He feels the buzzing in the back of his head steadily growing more and more unbearable, almost making him nauseous. Alex sends him a puzzled look before the door of the building creeks open and Eddie Dominique is standing there facing them. Billy’s head throbs in response, tells him how much of a bad idea this is when he takes a step and feels painful lightning shoot down his back. He takes a deep breath and pushes out, counts energies of friends and foe alike until his ribs are expanding normally. 

Eddie stays quiet for a long minute, in that minute Max looks between Billy and Neil, Steve moves his hand like he’s going to reach out but changes his mind at the last moment. Ethan hides Peter behind him as they center their focus on the man before them. 

“Well, glad to see if I’m not invited to the party then the party will still come to me.” Eddie jokes but it’s awkward, it’s odd, his voice is scraped raw and sounds crackly. Like he’s screamed himself hoarse. 

Billy remembers having that fuckin’ thing inside his head, how he screamed himself hoarse the first few days from the intruder waging war against his brain. The fear and pain overwhelming him constantly, the feeling of being a passenger in your own body. It’s enough to make Billy close in on himself, his shoulders hunching to hide starburst scars scattered under his sweater. 

“You’re not part of the party.” Jane hisses out, glaring darkly and the muscle jumps as she clenches her jaw. 

She’s standing in front of Max and it’s too far but Billy can’t make himself move to them. He feels trapped, like quick sand is pulling him down. Steve and Robin are at his shoulders, Hopper just to the left of them with his hand pushing Neil’s chest back. Billy can’t bring himself to study the look on his dad’s face, he just moves onto the next person. Dustin is standing a few feet behind the girls but he’s still closer to Peter off to the right. Alexendra and Ethan are the closest to Eddie and they’re both in defensive positions. 

Jane takes two steps forward and Billy jerks into motion. He hears someone take a sharp breath behind him but he steps in front of their half formed circle and lifts his gaze to meet Eddie’s. The quicksand sinking feeling is back, he’s almost got tunnel vision just looking at Eddie. He looks worse than he had before, the black veins have nearly consumed him, almost like his body isn’t strong enough to keep the demon inside. 

Billy remembers that feeling, too. Before he was strong enough, before he forced himself to become strong enough to keep the devil inside. He always thought if he put up a fight against it that it would make a difference in the end, and it almost did when Jane palmed his cheek and talked about his mom, but it didn’t because he knew the choice he had to make in that moment. He wonders if this could go differently, if Eddie can keep his daughter and his life intact after the devil takes all it can from him. He wonders when he became so well versed in surviving, doesn’t really have to wonder at all when his dad steps up next to him.

“Looks like the family got back together, huh, amigo?” Eddie asks, blinks rapidly between Billy and Neil and grins at Max when his eyes finally land on her. “How sweet.” 

“It ain’t gotta be like this, man. We can make this easy and help you instead--”

“Just what the fuck do you think is going to help this, Bill?” Eddie sneers.

“We can figure it out--”

“Bullshit.” Eddie spits at him. Looks at Ethan and shakes his head once. “I tried to do the right thing and that only put me in a worse position. I tried to fix and save all of you, I tried to keep the project pure and yet that fuckin’ asswipe only wanted the girl.” He points at Jane.

“Brenner?” Hopper asks from Billy’s other side. 

“Of course it was fucking Brenner!” Eddie shouts, hands flying out in dramatic flare before gripping at his hair. “Guy had me by my fucking balls, killed my wife--” he chokes on his words before swiping a hand over his face.

“Where’s Naomi, Eddie?” Ethan asks, his voice is quiet but his accent makes the vowels sound a little wonky. Billy would almost think he was talking to a scared animal instead of a possessed psycho. 

“Safe.” He spits. “Safe from me and this fucking thing.” 

“What does that mean?” Billy feels sick, feels like something isn’t right here. He blinks and listens closely, there’s a scratching sound just soft enough that he can tell that no one else has picked up on it but it’s getting louder and louder in his ears. 

He catches movement in the building above them, can feel something coming down the stairs. Slick skin glints in the moonlight that breaks through the tree canopy, Billy can hear nails against concrete. Eddie’s watching him with a sick grin on his face when Billy finally looks back to him. 

“This a trap, Eddwad?” He asks, feels the danger crawling up his spine and leaving goose flesh behind. “Gonna try and kill us now?” 

Eddie doesn’t say anything but he looks at Alexendra with a frown. 

“Don’t fucking do that!” He shouts. “You don’t know anything, you create these projections but they’re bullshit!” He turns quickly and opens the splintered door behind him. They don’t even have a split second to prepare before the demodogs come crawling out, leaping forward snarling and snapping their millions of teeth at them. 

Jane throws her hands up, nose already bloody, grunting with the force of the attack she’s trying to fend off. They get separated pretty quickly, Max and Dustin running back to one of the cars at Robin and Steve’s insistence but Billy can keep up with who is where, even when he pushes out with his mind. Peter’s somehow the closest to him now, Ethan’s got his hands in the middle of a monster’s chest and Alexendra is covering Jane’s back. He’s lost sight of Hopper and Neil and can’t afford to turn his head to find them when a monster lurches forward at him.

He’s got blood dripping down his chin, can feel it drip on his arms as he brings his hands up to push. He thought he had gotten good at pushing, thought he had control. He can’t keep them off him faster than they keep jumping at him now and it’s testing his limits in patience. He hears a thudding noise off to his side and looks up to see Steve, King Steve, with his bat smacking these bitches in the face. Robin’s got a crowbar and Max is holding an axe. He pushes his hands out and shoves a monster twenty feet away in his anger.

Turning around, he stomps up to Max, jerks the ax from her hands and tells her to get back to the car.

“You act like I’ve never been in a situation like this!” She spits, hair frizzy and reminds him of an alley cat they used to joke about in California. 

Instead of responding immediately he turns and whacks a monster, ax temporarily getting stuck in its body. Something black and gooey splatters across his face and it sets something off inside of him. Some kind of anger he hasn’t tapped into since before what happened in California, the anger that’s been building inside of him since he knew what anger actually was. He’s shaking and burning with it, feels it filling his lungs with every breath and his heart pumps it through his chest. 

“Get back to the fuckin’ car, Maxine.” He seethes and it’s like she knows exactly what’s going on with him because instead of arguing the point like she usually would she just widens her eyes and turns her back to him. 

He’s breathing hard, but not roughly like earlier. He can’t see where Steve is, can’t see Jane or Eddie even. Hopper’s got his own weapon, after finally giving up on his gun. He has about three seconds before something is going to jump at him again so he uses it to find his people. They’re inside, Eddie and Steve. Neil’s there too, oh fuck. He bolts through, ax swinging wildly and bodies moving with his shouts of effort. He’s covered in blood and sweat, already anticipating how good a hot shower is going to be after all of this. 

He crashes into the foyer and stops immediately. Eddie’s holding Jane by her throat, Steve’s got his bat up to swing and Neil is trying to talk him into putting Jane down. He’s never known his father as a man to put words before fists, never seen him bargaining before. He avoids it all together and focuses on Eddie’s hand on Jane before sighing deeply and diving in. He’s in Eddie’s head again, can feel the difference between Eddie and Mind Flayer, can taste it it’s so palpable. Maybe Eddie just might make it out of this. He shoves Eddie back before the Mind Flayer can notice the intrusion. Jane falls to her ass with a grunt before springing up and shoving her hand into Eddie’s face. Billy can hear the smack and knows she broke his nose so perfectly it’ll never heal back right. Jane shoves a finger into Eddie’s eye, twists her wrist like she’s looking for something and it almost makes Billy puke right there. He feels it all, stuck inside Eddie’s head but he also feels the shift of when Eddie gets shoved to the background and the Mind Flayer takes rein. 

It sends Jane flying into Neil, both of them crashing roughly but Jane’s the first to get up. Steve’s looking between Billy and Jane, blinking quickly like he’s trying to think on his toes. Billy makes a ‘slow down’ motion with his hand before mouthing ‘follow my lead’ and nods back to Steve’s nod. A guttural scream comes from Eddie’s throat before he’s launching himself at Jane and Billy’s right there, feet pounding the ground hard to shove an arm between them and push back at Eddie’s chest. Steve’s on the other side of Jane, arm wrapped around her shoulders as he drags her back a few steps. There’s an emptiness to Eddie’s eyes that has Billy feeling panicky, brings back too many memories of the same empty void feeling he had. The loss of self.

It’s enough of a pause to allow it to grab the upper hand on him. Eddie’s pulling the collar of his shirt up, lifting him effortlessly into the air. Steve makes a choking noise on the ground under him and Neil’s finally getting back onto his feet. It’s been maybe a full minute since he was flung across the room but it feels like it’s been years, everything happens hard and fast apparently. 

“Edwad, c’mon man. Y’don’t… don’t gotta do this.” Billy chokes out, hands scrabbling for purchase on the arms around him. A wicked smile flits across Eddie’s face before the steely determination is back. 

“Ain’t doing nothin’ you ain’t done before, amigo, remember?” It’s Eddie’s voice but it’s the Mind Flayer speaking to Billy now. “You were so good, too. Followed direction so perfectly, guess I only got that guy there to thank, huh?” It looked over at Neil and they both paled at the expression on Eddie’s face. 

“Got nothin’ to do with ‘im, it’s just us buddy.” Billy grits out, ignoring the hungry look the Mind Flayer keeps shooting around the room. 

The door crashes open behind them, Ethan, Robin and Alexendra burst in first but they’re covered head to toe in the black goo of monster blood. Behind them is Peter, Max and Dustin, which honestly Billy should’ve known they’d pull something fucking stupid as soon as he was fucking gone, with Hopper bringing up the rear.

The silence settles around them and Billy feels like the main entree, a feast of a show for everyone to watch with the way the Mind Flayer is looking at him. Billy wants to scream, wants to force everyone out and deal with this head on. To end both of them entirely. The Mind Flayer keeps it’s eyes solely on Billy and Billy puts up a blank front, he lets the Mind Flayer in, just an inch, and gives him a few memories. He’s pushing, reaching out to anyone else in the fucking room, whoever his mind can get to the fastest.

It’s Steve, because of fucking course it’s Steve. He’s watching himself being held in the air while Steve thinks a mile a minute about what to do to help. He’s actually going through pros and cons and Billy would give him so much shit if he had the space to actually give him shit. He makes Steve clench his hand on his bat, makes him take a step forward, feels when his breathing picks up and Steve connects the dots faster than Billy could ever give him credit for. He thinks he loves him when he disconnects from him and Steve still comes up and hits the back of Eddie’s knees with his bat. 

Billy braces for the fall and barely even rolls his ankle, it makes him feel superior about his chances. The body on the floor is groaning, monsterish and hollow, leaning over on his side. Eddie’s fingers are gripping the dirty concrete painfully, fingertips turning white with the pressure, wrist bent awkwardly until they give out and he slumps forward. Billy’s watching, eyes wide with laser focus, panting heavily and curling his toes. He’s tight like a coil, waiting for a cue to spring up and make the next move. Eddie’s face turns to him, ashen and pained, eyes just as distant as the ones he looked into seconds before. A white hot fear drips down his spine, the anticipation clenching his chest. He can smell his own fear pouring from him, can feel the blood dripping from his chin. He thinks that’s the only reminder that he’s stronger than he was the last time he fought this.

So, he does what he does best and he pushes. He pushes through his fear and shock and thinks about possible outcomes. He thinks about if they’re going to make it out a live of if this fucking thing is going to eat him all over again. He barely survived the last time, through no fault of his own. Max taps her foot in a familiar pattern, it sends a jolt through him as the memory comes crashing back of them talking in Morse code at the dinner table moments before Billy’s head would get pushed to the wall. She tells him that two left and three back is the ax. She tells him it’s still a fighting chance. She tells him to get the fuck up. He takes a deep breath and then shoves himself to his feet, grabs the ax and brings it up over himself then down onto the junction of Eddie’s arm-- executing his swing perfect to sever the bone right at his elbow. He gives a brief but extremely dark thank you to his father for forcing him into baseball, the only way he really learned how hard he could swing at the ground was after his dad shouted at him. 

The same splattering feeling across his face and a sickening twist has him taking staggering steps backward and painful deep breaths. Just as quick as the ax, Ethan is there with Peter. Billy can’t stop watching what they’re doing, between them they’ve pulled out a torch lighter of some kind and are holding a knife to it before pressing it to Eddie’s arm.

“Wait, what the fuck, you’re trying to save him?” Billy knows he’s yelling, knows the panic is pure in his voice. The looks Robin and Steve shoot him are almost concerning. 

“We can't fuckin’ let him die until we know where Naomi is!” Ethan shouts back.

“It’s Eddie again, but we don’t have much time. We need to do something fast before more of those monsters come back.” 

“You didn’t tell me you could differentiate the two.” Billy narrows his eyes.

“You didn’t ask.” Peter says dryly, crossing his arms and tilting his head towards Eddie.

Billy rolls his shoulders, wondering how he got put in the position of being the decision maker. He turns his back on the group and kneels down by Eddie’s head, wondering why he’s not getting up when he knows just how quick he healed from base injuries when that fucking thing was in his goddamn head. There’s a hand pressing against his throat and Billy doesn’t even blink before he’s twisting around and throwing his weight into Ethan. He breaks the hold in well practiced movements, probably looks professional as fuck as he does it too. He wonders if his dad notices how easy that move is. 

“The fuck, man?” Billy rasps out, Ethan’s panting across from him. “Can’t trust me now, eh? That it, Ethan?”

“You know better than anyone how that shit fucks you up and you still--” Ethan cuts himself off and resolutely ignores Billy as he turns back to Eddie. 

He’s kinda tired of back and forth anyways. He rubs a hand under his nose, smiles like a shark at the wrinkled nose Steve gives him as he wipes the same hand on his jeans, before turning with raised eyebrows to Hopper. 

“I got it from here but after I do this we have to move quickly.” Hopper sighs, reaching into his coat pockets. 

“Will that even work?” Robin asks. “I know you did it to Will but this is so much bigger than that, isn’t it?” 

“It’s worth trying, Robs.” Steve says. 

“Will was out for a few hours tops when we did it to him and we only had to take him into the backyard.” Hopper says, gruff with his brows lowered over his eyes. He surveys Eddie before shaking his head and pulling out a bottle and a syringe from his pocket. It makes Billy feel queasy to see, to know that this was the same thing that Max had used on him that November night that feels lifetimes ago. 

“It’s not going to work.” Billy rasps. “I had tried poisoning myself to get away from that thing and it just devoured it or forced it out of me.” 

“Guess we’ll have to put a tarp down in the car.” Hopper says as he’s loading the syringe and Billy’s hands are clenching on Eddie to keep him from moving away.

They’ve blindfolded Eddie and instead of taking him somewhere else they’ve left him in the running van. Steve and Billy are sitting in the front, Ethan had offered to sit and wait but Billy needed a minute to think and Steve wasn’t letting him out of his sight. It would’ve annoyed Billy, how Steve was always just two steps away from him but out of everyone Steve was the quiet presence that Billy needed. They didn’t talk about what was going on much, Steve asked if Billy was doing okay and Billy just shrugged and said ‘what can we do’. Billy didn’t want to over analyze their current situation, he was prolonging his own panic anyways, just trying to keep everything from falling to shit.

“Do you ever just-- shit.” Billy cuts himself off, staring out the window and rubs a hand over his mouth. “Ever just think about how insane this all is?” 

Steve huffs a laugh, it’s not funny but Billy gets why he finds humor in it. 

“Is it weird to say that you kinda just get used to it? I mean the kids… they’ve just rolled with everything, Dustin used to get the worst nightmares and now it’s like he thinks life is boring if the government or some kind of monster isn’t chasing after him. But I can’t stop thinking about where everything goes from here, you know?

“We’ve been dealing with this shit for years now, I almost don’t even know what normal is or what I would want from a normal life if I can’t keep this either. It used to eat away at me, like,” he makes a vague spinning gesture with his hand. “What would I even say to someone when they ask why I left my job with no notice or why I took such a long break between jobs without going to college. Monster hunting isn’t quite resume material, if it was even believable.” 

Billy pictures Steve in an office job, where he wears button downs and ties with ugly argyle socks, listens to his dad in board meetings and goes home and doesn’t have to worry about it he’s going to sleep or not. It feels normal, in a way that Billy was never certain about his own future that he is in Steve’s. 

“I think you’ll be okay, if you ever found what you wanted to consider normal.” Is all he says instead of going on about how strange life really is. “You just have to want to be normal.” He plasters on a fake grin, tries to make Steve think he’s joking. Steve only half rises to the bait. 

“I wanted to be normal, with Nancy especially. To do the college thing, make my parents proud for once, get a good job with some benefits and my own place. But that just feels so mundane now.” 

“To be fair, that seemed mundane when you were highly considering it too. Princess Wheeler’s… alright. Wasn’t shittin’ you when I said there’s plenty of fish in the sea.” He expects Steve to get pissy, in ways he has when Nancy was mentioned before but now he just lets out a bone exhausted sigh and nods. 

“Definitely know that now.” And that’s the end of that, they both go silent, Billy smokes his cigarette and watches the Australian pines sway in the light breeze. 

There’s a grunt, a deep intake of breath and then the back doors of the van are busting open. Eddie’s clutching his arm and rolling out of the back, landing on his ass and sliding to his feet as Billy swears and jumps out from the front seat. He stops, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he pushes out, anger and adrenaline coursing through him. Something in the back of his head tells him to be careful but the present part is telling him to scratch so hard it bleeds. When he opens his eyes, Eddie’s hanging midair between tree branches and there’s enough blood dripping from Billy’s nose to pool around his mouth. Jane’s standing a few feet away from the van, one hand pointed in Billy’s direction; almost like she’s controlling how Billy’s pushing, like the excessive blood is how hard he’s pushing against her to Eddie. 

He can feel the pause, can feel the pull, like the feeling deep in the muscle before a bad cramp. So he pushes until the muscle’s taut, encourages the cramp and pushes his hold on Eddie until the man is choking on his tongue in the middle of the treeline. He feels the tightness in Eddie’s chest, feels the breaths shaking Jane’s lungs as she exerts herself to match Billy. Billy can see himself through multiple pairs of eyes, can hear his own ragged breathing from another perspective, finds himself scared of what he’s doing and scared of stopping. He feels completely out of control, bleeding in through everyone’s minds and flowing right into Eddie’s own. The Mind Flayer hasn’t stirred once during this entire encounter. 

“Kid--” Hopper shouts.

“William!” Neil barks out.

“Seventeen--” Ethan starts and that’s where the reaction comes in. 

Billy’s been called Seventeen too many times, by too many fucking people that only wanted to test him. He’s been dehumanized to that number more times than he can count. Eddie may not be running this shit but he’s playing bitch for someone, Billy thinks that makes him just as evil, thinks that a little revenge might be good for him. 

Almost like fog a dense blackness fills his vision, almost like the void when he sinks to spy, thick and heavy enough to give him a choking on nothing feeling. He loses sight of everything around him and after a few quick seconds it gets deathly silent. There’s no one and nothing but him and blackness. It’s enough to make his stomach jerk in the worst way, to feel like he’s on the puppet strings again, that someone forced control through him even if it might’ve been for his own benefit. He pushes out but not even then is there anything, like he’s locked in a box that’s being lowered into the deepest part of the ocean. He’s looking around, afraid to move and sink too far into the unknown, turning his head side to side to try and see or hear anything. 

A hand taps his shoulder twice and he sinks to his knees without fully knowing what he’s doing, the same hand runs over the back of his head and it almost feels like a caring hand, cold to touch but warm in gesture. It sweeps over his shoulder then runs back up his neck before two palms settle directly over his eyes. When he blinks they’re gone and he can see again. Alexendra is standing in front of him, her hands slowly moving back to her sides.

Eddie’s slowly lowered to the ground, Hopper shooting Billy a weird look as he steps over tree roots to get the other man. Ethan has his brows furrowed over his eyes while Alexendra is looking at him curiously, Peter’s gaping at him and Billy can’t bring himself to meet Max or Steve’s eyes. Neil’s swearing somewhere in the back but that’s neither here nor there for Billy. 

“That’s a lot of anger for someone so lost.” Alex says down at him, squints her eyes like he’s a questionable puzzle piece, trying to figure if his edges will fit. 

“You got him?” Billy asks Hopper, gruff. Nods back to his nod. “Good.” Without waiting he steps into the thick embrace of the trees, keeps himself straight enough until he knows he’s far enough away that he’s truly alone. He pushes out, tries to recall what he was thinking and feeling in the minutes before but there’s nothing. Only Steve’s presence at the van was left. That sparks some frustration, the constancy of Steve. Ethan creeps closer to the woods, to Billy’s radar. 

He sits down hard on his ass, knees bent and arms resting on top with his eyes up to the sky peaking through the pines. No clouds, stars bright, wind tossing pine needles in every direction. He’s so tired of the loss of self he feels at every turn, never knowing if his actions truly reflect on the honest part of him or if this it’s all reaction to being thrust back into a life he was forced to leave. He thinks of the vast loneliness of the blank space that Alex had sent him. Would that be a better place for him to go, instead of inside of his head? 

“You gonna stand there watchin’ me all night or are you finally gonna ask your question?” 

“How’d you lose control like that?” Ethan comes to sit a few feet away, mirrors Billy’s posture but keeps his shoulder loose, looks at the forest floor between his feet. 

“Want a demonstration?” Billy chucks a laugh, it feels vile on his tongue. 

“No, I just-- I keep forgetting that you got the royal treatment instead of the guinea pig treatment.” Ethan sighs, rubs a hand over his face. “We got discarded, man, once Brenner got his dick hard for you and- and Jane.”

“Did she say you could call her that?” Billy’s voice is chilly and he watches Ethan tense. 

“No, what, does that even--”

“Then don’t fuckin’ call her that.” Billy spits. “That’s a private name for her and if she didn’t tell you that you could address her as such then don’t. Fuckin’ rude.” 

“How can you be so protective of some kid you barely know but allow yourself to be this- this devil’s advocate type?” 

“Ever heard of masochism?”

“Are you ever fuckin’ serious, man?” Ethan bites, Billy wants to laugh but he’s so tired and Eddie’s still with everyone else. Ethan left the group to invade on Billy’s pity party so that must mean they’re okay, he’d hope that Ethan wasn’t that stupid. 

“I’m plenty serious, okay? I’m taking my lashes and trying not to question why. I’m pushing through and staying focused.” Billy gets louder as he goes and Ethan’s shaking his head after his second sentence.

“Maybe you’re supposed to ask why, maybe you’re not supposed to just allow everyone to just--” 

“Just, what? Rely on me? Put me in front of the metaphorical gun and keep their fingers crossed I won’t shoot myself in the foot while trying to kill the big bad monsters?”

“That is a whole fucking group of people who want to work beside you, with you, not watching you kill yourself to do that for them. Or are you too stupid to see they’re all hovering over you all the time?” 

“I can’t ever fuckin’ escape them, of course I know they’re hovering! They think I’m some kind of answer to the questions from so long ago. All of you act like I’m the key to the equation but I don’t know any of this shit, I know I died and then I wasn’t dead. I know I spent too fucking long trapped playing mind games with some nasty Russians. I know they used every weakness I had to break me and now I’m so fucking broken that I don’t know who I am.

“So, tell me, fuck face, how did you do it? How did you find who you were, who you are, and how the fuck did that bring you peace?” Billy waves a wild hand at Ethan. 

“What got you through the lab?” Ethan asks, eyes scanning the woods around them. “How did you survive it? I thought of my girlfriend. I thought of her and it wasn’t bad.” 

Billy resolutely didn’t answer, didn’t even look at Ethan but at the direction where Steve’s energy came from. 

“Him, eh?” He raises his hands in peace when Billy snaps his gaze to him. “No judgment here, man. That’s yours.” 

“Yeah. Him.” Billy sighs, shaking his head and turning away. 

“You have to stop clutching at your broken pieces, have to stop running through the what-ifs. You have to think about who you were and compare it to who you want to be and if where you are now is on track to getting there. If not, then, well, you know. Just gotta direct yourself back.” 

They don’t say anything for a few long seconds, the world moving on around them. Ethan glances over to Billy a few times, checking on his face and his eyes before looking back out into the woods. 

“I think you have a pretty good chance, with him, you know? I think you’ll be okay. Let him help you though, you can hide it from anyone you want to but the ones who know you.” 

When Billy still doesn’t say anything Ethan sighs and stands up. He tells Billy to come back soon or he’s sending Steve out for him. Billy doesn’t react, doesn’t move a single muscle and finally he’s alone again. He waits until Ethan’s faded away enough to take a deep breath and that’s when he smell hits him. 

Like fresh rot, like old rot, like blood and dirt and hell wrapped into one. A home amongst stolen homes, a desecrated place that Billy’s hated since the moment he came across it. He’s staggering forward before he knows what he’s doing, shadow hands reaching out from tree roots and snaking around his ankles and legs, guiding him forcefully towards a deep pit in front of a giant tree. 

He falls face first into the blackness, comes to with his stomach feeling upside down, his feet staggering drunkenly to take his weight properly. He comes face to face with a familiar grin and twinkly brown eyes. 

“Welcome home, soldier.” Heather flirts, lips bowing around her words like her smile is trying to crack her face. It’s such a colder version of the girl he truly knew that he feels sick. “It’s been a minute, Bill, I was wondering when you were going to come find me. Finally.” Her ponytail bobs as she says the last word. 

He looks over her shoulder, the crowd of faces of people he once brought to their deaths are staring back. Hawkins’ streets and familiar houses are lining the block around them. He could’ve sworn he was in Florida.

“Oh, fuck.” Billy swears, Heather’s smile falters for a few seconds then returns with brilliance.


	18. Born in to the world with two left feet in the grave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO it has been.... quite some time!!!   
Sorry this is so short, I want to give so much more depth with Heather at the helm but hoooooo boy I have some catching up to do before I can get that far.  
Anyways, welcoming in Heather!! My girl deserved so much better and I am here to give it to her.   
Warning for some suicidal ideation, Heather gets stuck in her head almost always my poor baby.  
Enjoy :) please comment some encouragement if you can :)

Heather has spent a long time in the cold and dark. Years almost. She has watched the shadows crawl around her, heard the screeches all around her echoing through the empty space. Billy was warm. Billy was scalding hot, who the fuck was she kidding? Everyone in town either loved him or hated him. He was spectacular eye candy at the pool, him swaggering about while everyone drank in the sight of him. It was her favorite memory. At least, the pool before Billy got weird. Sick. 

Any other person who got stuck in the dark this long probably wouldn’t have made it out alive. Heather doesn’t know if she’s alive or not. She thinks maybe so but the lack of a racing heart when the big shadow roams in the darkest areas around makes her think maybe not. She oddly doesn’t panic about that much, not until she’s running through the woods around Loch Nora and rips her shoulder open on a sharp branch and the same black veins that hallowed out Billy are exposed under her skin. 

So maybe she was infected. That would explain the god awful memory of attacking her parents and surrendering them to whatever controlled Billy. She doesn’t sleep but the daydreams are kinda stellar. She sees snippets of color, warm breezy days of glowing green. She hears Billy’s voice, sometimes. Thinks she might be seeing into his head. She misses the sun. She misses the warmth. She heard echoes of other people, like ghosts stuck in a specific time frame. She thinks of Missy Shephard’s nerdy little brother, the one that tried to tell them that a time space continuance was entirely possible, that a time loop could be created between dimensions and transferred over each other like mistakes while developing film. 

Needless to say, they stopped going to Missy’s house after school. Annoying little brothers while you were trying to smoke pot and gossip was not exactly how Heather enjoyed her afternoons. Sometimes Missy put her mouth to better uses and locked the door behind them so there were no interruptions. Heather misses that, too. She thought for a second that she might end up with Billy over the summer, thought them being two healthy young adults might bring them together. But Billy kept their interactions short, flirty but perfunctory. A passing shoulder grip with a wink and then no conversation the rest of the shift. 

She didn’t take it personal until she caught him almost dying in the lockers. She takes it very personally now. But she also knows it wasn’t Billy’s intention. Which makes her more pissed off than ever because the one person who can actually bring her some kind of… answer to any question of eventually coping with this is probably fucking dead too. But, like, really dead. Not this half stuck purgatory-esque ghost haunting her old spots and immensely miserable.

It feels like she’s stuck on pause. Like everything she knew and loved just froze how it was and she’s the only one experiencing the dreadful feeling of never changing. She feels like she’s thirteen and forcibly hidden behind an ugly dress and a large fake potted plant at her cousin’s Bar Mitzvah. Her mother hushing her and making frantic hand motions, telling her she’s ‘supposed to act like woman, it’s been a year Heather’ from the corner as she tries to sneak over to her cousin’s table and lean in with their jokes. She thought it would have been really funny to remind them that she’s the same age as them but still ahead in every way meaningful. Her mother hated that joke, told her she needed to ‘grow the fuck up’ and she ‘wasn’t acting lady-like enough sitting with her legs like that, in front of the Rabbi no less’. Like her father’s pulling of the reins a little too hard about how a good Jewish girl should grow up in the Christian wasteland that was Hawkins. Temple was three hours away in a weird neighborhood behind someone’s barn.

Heather supposes she never got to learn how to be a good Jewish girl when her mother was a closested alcoholic. Or maybe that was the lesson, Heather supposes that that would have made more sense with who her mother truly was. 

Needless to say, Heather’s days (weeks months years) were spent with so much fucking inflection on her god awful life that she was resorting to mindless antics to keep some kind of cabin fever from setting in. She took up entering houses and redecorating to her content, shoving couches and beds around. It was lonely work, building a home for no one but herself to enjoy. She only made it through three successes before it tapered out into some kind of inflection of how she’d never do this for a real family. 

The day Billy shows back up is as boring as the rest. Heather has no appetite, she has no hunger for life other than to avoid the shadow that seems to always creep where she’s lurking as well. She doesn’t do much other than move around all day now. She never changes, her body never changes. At least she’s not stuck in her swimsuit for the pool. She thinks she could use some color though, could possibly trick herself into thinking the sun might show again sometime soon if she were dressed appropriately for it. 

Sometimes she thinks about falling from the top of the quarry but that’s neither here nor there. She wonders if she’d open up more of the blackened veins under her skin and shudders to the thought. It’s a hard pass. 

She’s sitting in the woods, weaving leaves around small branches in a square shape like they did in summer camp in middle school. She’s humming under her breath and keeping her eyes up, waiting for the tell tale signs that the shadow has found her spot once again. It’s a boring routine, now, the running and hiding. The weather never changes. The wind never blows, there’s never snow, not even cold. Just a loss of heat. A loss of life. 

The wind blows when Billy lands harshly in the branches ten feet away from her. The wind blows, the branches snap and there’s a screeching sound in the distance. 

Heather grabs her branches, pulls Billy to his feet and bolts in the direction of the abandoned cabin she’d found in her endless search of Hawkins and the barrens surrounding it. She never got farther than Hawkins. She wonders if it’s part of the purgatory thing. 

They don’t speak for long minutes, until the screeching is no longer echoing, until Heather can only hear Billy’s gasping breath and the lack of her own. 

“How the fuck are you still here?” Billy asks, face drawn pale.

“How the fuck did you get back here?” She asks back, raising an eyebrow and then moving beyond Billy to sit in a chair. 

“Didn’t you-- when it--”

“Die? Guess we’re going there right away then.” Heather sighs. “I have fuck all clue what’s going on Billy. I thought I died, I feel like I have. I don’t have a pulse. I don’t have an appetite. I just… got stuck.” 

Billy’s still breathing harshly, meeting her eyes and looking at her shoulder before looking at their surroundings. He seems even more confused and then blinks it all away with a sharp grunt. 

“Do you know where we are?” 

She knows she’s giving him a long look, he rolls his eyes at her before waving his hands in a ‘hurry up’ gesture.

“We’re in Hawkins, Billy.” 

“No, no, I know that, Heather. I mean this exact cabin. Do you know where this cabin is?” 

“I think like ten miles from any solid neighborhood. Like way the fuck out of town but still part of the town in total? I don’t fucking know.” 

“You hide out here, often?” He swipes a hand over his mouth and watches her before nodding his head and moving around. 

“Every day.” 

Heather wants to ask what the considering look on his face means, wants to ask why he’s moving around like he knows the place. He throws blankets on the floor, looks through the fridge for a half of a second before slamming it shut and gagging. Heather says nothing. She waits until Billy’s searched foot to head of the cabin and came up empty handed for whatever he was looking for. 

“This is Chief Hopper’s cabin. This is-- I was in fucking Florida-- how--”

A loud screechy scream echoes out in the woods off the back of the cabin. It’s possible they’re already surrounded by now, the shadow figures move fast and Heather could barely out run them the last time they came for the cabin. 

“Billy, we have to go.” Heather pleads, looking out the window and back towards him. “Now.” She says hastily, running her hands over the wood to find the knob. 

There’s snow on the ground when the door finally pushes open. There’s snow and… kids. Teenagers, lanky boys and awkward angled bodies. Someone’s screeching up at them and then they’re all gone. Like film being developed over top of each other, their world crosses over Heather’s several times in a flat second. She recognizes them, sees Nancy Wheeler’s loser brother and part of his posse. Billy’s caught reaching out to one of them, hand wavering in midair. 

Heather makes it a few steps forward before the flicker happens again, blackened forrest turned brightly snow covered and… alive. One of the boys starts a hollowed out and shrill screech of “Bill-” and the scene flickers again. 

“--ly” the film burns through and suddenly the white overcomes the dark. Nancy’s brother is grasping at Billy’s hand, both of them staring the other in the eye and looking cautiously around. Heather’s clutching her chest and snapping her mouth open and shut to try and regulate her breathing. She’s choking on air, eyes watering and chest convulsing with the power of her attempts to not cough. 

It’s entirely chaos around her, the boys yelling and Billy yelling back, a woman runs down the front steps and crashes into Billy before turning to Heather and holding her face while counting down her breathing. Her hands are warm, they’re so warm and Heather’s knees give out from the shock, the cold registering from the inside of her before noticing the burn of it on her skin. 

“They were-- they were coming,” she pants out. “The shadows were coming for the cabin. Bill-” she cuts off when the boys and the woman snap their heads to meet their own panicked looks. 

“Where were you, before you showed up here, sweetie?” The woman asks, rubs her thumbs across Heather’s cheeks. Heather reaches up and gently wraps her fingers around the lady’s wrist. She’s motherly, tender and wild eyed. 

“In the dark.” Heather whispers. “Here, I was here but it was--”

“Upside down.” Nancy’s brother fills in and Heather nods once weakly. He curses under his breath and then looks at the woman. “They need to come home now.” 

“They sure do, Mike.” The lady says quietly. Billy’s tense beyond her shoulder, looking out into the woods and rubbing the back of his neck. One of the boys is watching him closely while the other is encouraging everyone to come inside. 

“Can I make that call?” Billy asks and the woman nods once, handing over a cordless phone. 

They get Heather inside and she learns the names of the other two boys, Will and Lucas. Will’s mom, Joyce, makes her a cup of coffee. It’s bitter in the way that she hasn’t tasted in so long. She finishes the cup before Joyce can offer cream and sugar. Billy’s red in the face by the time he comes back in, cold and windswept. He nods at Joyce and she relaxes minutely. Heather’s offered clothes, which she highly suspects are partly Nancy’s, and a shower. She takes the time alone gratefully. The warm water surrounding her. The film flashes in greyscale behind her eyes and she squeezes them shut tighter in attempt to hold on to the right film. She turns the heat of the water up as a reminder that the warmth isn’t disappearing.

She won’t lose this again.


	19. you couldn't be the kind I could ever outgrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me?? Updating twice in one week?? I don't know them. 
> 
> Another shortie of a chapter but hopefully finally some good fucking food. maybe a tad bit too dramatic but I am going somewhere with this *insert connecting the dots meme from buzzfeed unsolved*
> 
> Did I stress bleach my hair tonight because my job is literal bullshit and I'm sick of it? Yes. Do I feel like myself again? Also yes. 
> 
> Enjoy!! leave some food for thought if you possibly can, I would be much obliged.
> 
> Song is LAVA by STILL WOOZY
> 
> Content warning for talk of killing a sick animal. A brief statement, starts at "he feels like he's looking..." and ends with "leans his arms across the top...."

Steve’s driving straight through. He won’t take the chance of missing a second longer than he already has. Hopper and the others had bound Eddie as much as they could, sat him between Neil and Ethan in the middle of the van so he was surrounded by someone on each side for the drive back north. Neil and Hopper had a huge pissing contest over who was more annoyed by Billy, Neil for entirely different reasons than Hopper. Max and Dustin were crashed out in the back seat, Robin going through the tape collection in the glove compartment before settling back in her seat. She offered to take over through Georgia but Steve’s nerves wouldn’t allow him to let her. 

He was sat straight in the seat, hands tight on the wheel. He didn’t check his mirrors often, but he paid enough attention to the world around him for them to survive. He started yawning three hours into Tennessee and finally gave the wheel over to Robin. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the glass but the only thing bouncing around in his head was Billy’s quiet “come home, Stevie,” from the brief call the morning prior. 

Billy had started out talking to Hopper. Heather was alive and breathing in Hawkins, Joyce was watching over her like a duckling and Hopper sighed deeply and said “fuck” real heartily. Apparently Billy could use the Upside Down to teleport now. Interesting business. Ethan thought it was hilarious. He made a passing comment that Steve was still dissecting. 

“Instead of coming clean about his feelings he created a nightmare portal. Interesting.” He had laughed to himself and then laughed a little louder when Max called him a shit bag. 

Steve didn’t feel the urge to continue on with that particular bit of conversation but he did think it was funny that Max stomped on Ethan’s foot to get him to her height level in order to scold him in deeper detail. Robin had that raised eyebrows impressed look on her face. Steve never should’ve introduced the two. 

The few rest areas they stopped in held dismal conversation. Steve was often the one initiating it, annoyed and edging to pissed off with this constant jumping/falling shotty planwork they’d been doing. Not that any of their most successful plans had ever been perfectly planned or even planned as a group at all, but the instability was eating away at him. Were they this unstable before Billy changed everything completely? Did it always feel like everything was at stake like this before or was having high school and his parents money as the biggest safety net he took advantage of enough to quell that feeling?

“WHY doesn’t anyone have a shred of a solid fucking plan? Why are we constantly going into shit blindly and getting our shit thrown back into our faces when push comes to fucking shove?” Steve shouts one night, hand flung out and pointing to all of the other adults around him. “These fucking kids have made better plans than any of us assholes have and we’ve got the chief of fucking police of Hawkins on our side.” 

Hopper had been stoic until that. His eyes flashed and he took a breath, like he was going to start spouting off shit back to Steve, before he let his shoulders slump and nodded to himself once. The lack of hostility put Steve even more on an edge. At least that was familiar from Hopper, at least that was something Steve was accustomed to anyways. 

“We’re going to go home.” Hopper says, gruff and low. He doesn’t meet Steve’s eye when he looks around at the faces around him. “We’re going back to Hawkins.” 

Ethan watches Steve from then on, when they’re around each other at least. He rakes his cold eyes across everything Steve touches or breathes out. It’s unnerving, to put it simply. Steve doesn’t like it. He doesn’t think he likes Ethan. The teens are never around when someone blows up, thankfully. They don’t have to see the panic set in, the glazed over looks some of the others get or the absolute misery that is watching Eddie take in all of them and use their complaints against them. 

Steve wonders, never aloud, if bringing Eddie back with them was the right thing to do. They keep the blindfold on him and Steve’s the most grateful of it. He knows them by their voices, by the way they breathe. A predatory wagging of his tongue at any mention of Billy. It enrages Steve to see that particular manifestation. The first time Eddie calls him ‘pretty boy’ Steve punches him so hard in the nose he nearly breaks his knuckles. He’s like a man possessed after that, he ruins himself to think of possibilities and their outcomes. Consequences. He tries to be forward thinking, for the first time in years or maybe ever he wishes he was smart enough to answer these questions. Will they survive? Will Billy keep his life? 

Has it already changed beyond reparation?

“I’ll give you something to believe in--” Neil starts out one night, possibly early morning, getting into Steve’s face and he brings his hands up as if he’s going to shove Steve back. He barely gets his words out before he’s down on the ground, visibly seizing while Steve is frozen in place. El winks when he snaps his head over to her and Max after one of them snorts a laugh. 

They get back to Hawkins, finally. Steve’s vibrating in his seat as he brings the car around to the edge of the woods. Robin and Max keep shooting him these weird looks, Dustin is oblivious as always which helps Steve to relax slightly when he talks about what Will, Lucas and Mike have been doing. 

“Probably sitting on their asses, no, sitting with their thumbs up their asses.” Dustin says. “They’re useless without me.” Max snorts at that and Steve has to talk Dustin down from a slight self deprecating edge for a minute before he glances out of the window and towards the cabin. 

Heather Holloway is sitting on the front steps with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, Billy’s leaning against the post next to her. They’re both eyeing the car. Steve’s the last one to get out, surprisingly Dustin is the first to exit the car. He blows past Billy and Heather with nothing more than a shoulder clap to Billy. Max sighs heavily and makes her way into the cabin, exchanging quiet words with Billy and Heather before it’s just Robin and Steve watching the two on the porch. The plan is to gather everyone at the quarry to take care of the Eddie issue. Hopper was adamant that Eddie never get anywhere close to the cabin. It was the first plan that Steve finally agreed with. 

He doesn’t know how to have this conversation. He doesn’t know how to tell Billy that they don’t really trust him, not upon learning that he leapt through the Upside Down and pulled another person out on his exit. Steve wants to know if Billy can conjure it up, if there’s still something left of the Mind Flayer that’s easing it’s way through him again. 

He wants to know if Billy has ever been himself since. 

He wants to know if anything has been itself since. 

He doesn’t think he can handle the answer either way, mostly because if Billy wasn’t himself then this has been incredibly stupid and dangerous and fucking-- MINDLESS the entire time. But if Billy was then this means he’s either tied to the Upside Down or the power pumping through his veins is surely going to kill him anyways. Will said he could sense when the shadow demon was around, but he never said he felt when the Upside Down was near. It wasn’t like a metal detector, the kids always explained it like that to him. Like he couldn’t understand the complex way they related everything to their fucking dungeons and dragons shit. 

He feels like he’s looking into the face of the sick dog his dad took out past Milner’s barn and shot in the head when he finally gets out of the car and leans his arm across the top to look at Billy. Robin gives him another weird look before walking up to Heather. They weren’t friends, not even close, but Heather looked almost excited to see a normal person wrapped up in this shit too. 

Steve doesn’t think he’s ever been overly normal. He’s always been the center of attention and while maybe not exceptional in school he was pretty popular with everyone in it. He thinks about this, briefly, while he watches Billy slowly walk over. He’s taking small steps and breathing heavy, like something hurt him. Steve’s instantly walking around the car and meeting him halfway, question poised on his lips when he sees the blood dripping from Billy’s nose. 

He’s wary again, a heavy weariness settling into his bones as he tries to make sense of the condition Billy is in. Billy looks like he’s about to collapse, Steve doesn’t know what kind of consequence he’s paying for Upside Down jumping but this might be it? Unless something else?

“HOLY SHIT-- STEVE!!” Dustin screams from inside, breaking the spell he was under watching Billy. 

He jerks to himself and watches Billy wince, shoulders jumping up to his ears. 

“Look, Steve, don’t-- don’t freak out, okay?” Billy’s voice is so quiet and there’s a pained edge behind it. Steve’s already got his heart leaping into his throat, pulse hammering away in his ears. 

“Dumbass.” Robin hisses from the porch, shaking her head and looking at Steve briefly before going inside to see the damage. 

“What do I need to not freak out about before I go in there and freak the fuck out, Billy?” He knows he’s cut his voice sharp, almost accusatory. Ethan would laugh at them if he were here, he laughed at Steve often enough. 

“Just--” he wheezes out. “Fuck, just, those dog things. They, uh, must’ve followed.” 

Must’ve followed. 

Oh. 

“The gate is open.” Steve breathes. 

Billy’s brow furrows. “We knew that already.” 

“No. Yeah. But.” He blows his breath out, watches a piece of his hair move with it. “The gate originally opened just outside of Hawkins. Has been opening around Hawkins. It wasn’t stable to stay open in Florida. There wasn’t enough--”

“Fuckin’ shit, Steve, you NEED to get in here.” He snaps his head up to Dustin, followed by Mike and Max, and pales at the looks on their faces. 

Billy’s pink tinged hand grabs his wrist before he can take another step. 

“Please.” He whispers and it throws Steve through such a fucking loop that he pauses and looks down into Billy’s eyes. Billy’s eyes are glazed over, like he’s watching something play out before them without actually seeing it. 

Joyce has joined the group on the porch when Steve’s eyes flicker over. She’s got tear tracks on her face. 

“What the fuck happened?” Steve whispers back, horror creeping into his voice. 

“She’s gonna be okay, Steve, I promise.” Billy’s voice is desperate in a way Steve can fucking listen to. “Nancy-- she, well, Will was about to get… and she, just, jumped in front. But I… I did what I could for her. She’s gonna be okay.” His eyes were bright with tears, blinking up at Steve while he labored his breathing. 

Nancy got hurt.

Nancy got bit by a demodog. 

Nancy fucking Wheeler.

His immediate reaction is to look behind Joyce for Jonathan. He can’t see much into the cabin, can’t see anything past Mike’s weirdly boney shoulders. He listens, carefully, can only hear Billy’s staggered breathing. He’s panicking silently, he needs to step inside and see the damage but he doesn’t think he could see the only girl he’s ever truly loved lying on a makeshift death bed.

He pulls free from Billy’s grasp anyways, takes a few steps, takes a few steps more. Gets into the cabin, sees the bloodied sheets littering his walkways. Nancy’s eyes aren’t open but she’s not a weirdly pale color like he expects a dead person would be. Her chest is moving gently, little motions of life. Jonathan’s asleep, bloody and grimey on the floor next to her. She was bit in the leg. Not as life threatening as Steve was thinking but he still backs out of the cabin quickly, the smell of blood and fear stinging his nose and the back of his throat, backs out until he steps into Max and turns to throw up over the handrail. 

“You need to meet up with Hopper.” Robin reminds him gently. “I’ll stay with the kids here, get some of this cleaned up. Everyone else needs to go with you, remember?” She rubs gently at the junction of shoulder and neck and Steve breathes out harshly. He blinks twice at her and she smiles gently. 

“Roger, roger.” He says, huffs a laugh when she snorts at him. “Fuck, Robbie, what--”

“Not right now. After you get some answers, stop overwhelming yourself.” She says quietly, looks down at Heather and then out to where Billy is leaning against the car. “You got some major questions, that’s for sure.” 

Max is watching Billy, Steve watches her blue-green eyes flicker over his figure before she sets her shoulders and strides out to him. He stiffens up when she reaches him, smacks her hand away from his jacket but doesn’t recover enough to stop her second attempt. She jerks open his coat and lifts the bloodied shirt there. Steve’s waiting with bated breath, Max doesn’t move for seconds straight and he’s getting antsy in the time between. 

Billy hisses, breath spitting between his teeth as she shows the bite to the hip he took when he dragged Nancy inside. Super powered healing or not, it wasn’t a clean break of skin. The scars that were already there seemed to have pulled apart with the pressure of millions of teeth. Billy looks tattered and torn, almost like he’d be bleeding to death. 

Steve’s by his side in an instant, hands in the air around his hip but wavering. He doesn’t want to touch, fuck, he doesn’t even really want to see it but Billy’s full of black veins. He thought it was a trick of the winter lighting, but Billy really had black veins. He didn’t smell like blood.

“You smell like the Upside Down.” Steve whispers, lifts his gaze to meet Billy’s. 

He expects a joke, ‘guess you are what you eat, huh, Harrington’ or something just as bad. But Billy says nothing, just blinks at him. 

Steve’s cold, but Billy’s colder when he puts his hand on the side of his throat. 

Billy just licks his lips and looks heavenward. 

“Billy--”

“Yep. Heard you.” He grunts out, breathes in deep and ignores Max’s whispered questions. Their audience stays silent, though Steve knows Heather has moved closer. 

“Are you--?” 

“Passing out? Yep.” He chokes out before his knees buckle and Steve has to catch him before he slides down into the snow. 

The black veins on Billy’s hip swell, twitch and then thin back out. 

Like something’s crawling through him. 

Fuck.


	20. take off your face, pull away your teeth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's some..... depression soup for the recently dreamy homosexual.  
sorry in advance, I purposefully left out a lot of detail and.... kinda gave Steve the Big Sad.  
broke my own heart with this one, folks.
> 
> I'm going to update as much as I can put out, hopefully I don't fuck off for months on end again but on the off chance that happens.... I'm severely sorry.

Steve is standing at a sink, hands covered in sudsy bubbles. His hands are beyond pruned, one holding a plate while the other uses the sponge to sweep across it in circular motions. He can’t bring himself to look around the kitchen he’s in, just sees the golden granite counters alongside the bright white ceramic farmer’s sink. All of the dishes in the sink are covered in a red liquid. He hopes it’s just spaghetti but he doesn’t hold the thought for very long. There’s a bottle of wine, emptied, sitting on the counter just to his left. He doesn’t remember anyone having a reason to celebrate. Wine and champagne have always meant celebrating, at least with his parents it did. Wine was for private celebrations whereas champagne was for parties with distinguished guests. 

“So who opened the gate then?” is sharply whispered just outside of the small bubble Steve’s found himself in. He jerks at the tone but when he doesn’t immediately see someone standing in the brightly lit room he lets his gaze wander from the doorway. 

It’s a yellow kitchen with white fixtures and cabinets. There’s yellow appliances and decor on the counters, white and yellow sunflowers frequent as paintings and in vases. Circular rugs with intricate patterns in the same colors under his feet, candles and trinkets, things obviously made by children with too much glitter and uncooked pasta. 

It’s homey, soft and warm. He’s on edge as soon as the feeling hits him. 

He’s dreamed of this house. Of this kitchen. The dreams this kitchen has featured were… nothing short of domestic bliss for him. Growing old, children, family gatherings that weren’t the pressed shirt and tie affairs they so often were for Steve. A loving partner that shared all of this and more with him. 

It was the future he’d created. Something he revisited when he was homesick, something that fueled him when he could just barely find the courage to get out of bed in the mornings. 

“Was it sixteen or seventeen?” the same voice screeches. He’s quick to cover his ears, the sound jumps around the room and reverberates in his head. 

The water is still running but it went from a normal clear color to a rusty brown in a matter of seconds. The counters were warped when he looked again, the walls looked like the paint was melting right off them, brown starburst patterns flowing down from the ceiling. It was rotting, right before his eyes. 

He remembers this warning years ago. It feels like his memories were thrown out to sea and dragged along the beds on their way back. Someone told him that was his cue. But it’s been barely thirty seconds of him standing here. He thinks he should move, should do more than to question dirty dishes and jump at sounds. 

His feet take him towards the doorway, his hands still clutching a plate and the sponge. He catches sight of picture frames along the wall in the hall, a picture of him and another person and a small child between them. The child and the other person are entire blurs, no face or shape. There but not explicitly written into the plans. 

He swallows hard, ignores the rest of the pictures until he reaches the end of the hall. There’s a small frame with one person in it. Wild and curly and free blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and a smile as wide as it could fit in a face split only by a cigarette. He’s leaning against a midnight blue car, wings and fins and all kinds of crazy fucking--

“Billy.” He breathes, dropping the plate. 

The frames all drop from the wall. Someone shuffles in the room through the doorway. He doesn’t know if he should continue on, his pulse is thudding loudly in his ears. He can’t find the right way to pull air in. He thinks he’s sinking, can’t move his legs. 

“God, took you long enough, Stevie.” The voice in the next room calls and there’s more of a shuffling sound, like grocery bags. “Been gone three hours, babe.”

“Sorry, sorry! God, it just started fuckin’ pourin’ like Satan himself came to visit.” 

He hears his own voice, frantic, and turns the corner so fast he has to skid to a stop. He sees himself, hair groomed and polished, carrying paper bags in from a front porch area. Billy’s up from the couch, television set up with some video game, and reaching for bags. They smile softly at each other as their fingers touch when Steve hands over another bag. 

“What the fuck,” he whispers, watching the two of them move into the hall and towards the kitchen. He brings his hands up and rubs at his eyes, when he looks around the room again it’s like it’s been scorched. The couches are blackened and broken, the wallpaper peeling and the banister for the stairs is gone.

There’s a sobbing noise from upstairs. It comes from a closed bedroom door and a moan follows after, long and low. It obviously not Steve, the moaner. Steve knows how he sounds during sex. The hallway becomes warm, at first he thinks it’s his own embarrassment showing in the form as a whole body blush but there’s another moan and-- yep, he’s walking down the hall and away from whatever the fuck that thudding noise is. The hall turns a corner and the warmth radiating from the… sex room is viscerally gone, cold dread flushing through him as he notices a line of stuffed toys leading him to the end of the hall. 

Steve thinks he’s done with this shit show. Wills himself to wake up. Remembers there’s something he’s looking for but can’t remember what exactly. There’s a key to this, someone told him once. An objective, not a punishment. 

There’s a kid upstairs. A little boy. The letters on the wall spell Everett. That’s his grandfather's name on his mother’s side. The only grandparent that loved him as much as he loved them. He adores it, the whole room is something he wishes he’d had as a boy. Stars and planets, dinosaurs and robots. Bright blue walls with green and grey accents in the form of rugs, blankets and pillows. There’s a television and the closet is open enough to show board games stacked on the top shelves. The boy is curled in on himself, crying in the middle of the floor. He snaps his head up when Steve enters and he shudders before leaping his small body at Steve.

“Daddy!” The boy is panicked, latching onto Steve’s legs and crying into his knees. “Daddy, I scared.” He whispers and Steve realizes his hands are up in the air, like he’s about to push the boy back and leap out of the room. It feels strange, stranger than anything, to hear someone addressing him like that. Almost painfully he puts his hands on the boy’s shoulders and slides them down his back in what he hopes is comforting. 

“H-hey, it’s okay, little man.” He chokes out, eyes filling with tears so quickly he looks up to blink them away. 

In between blinks the room changes, like film developed over each other. His hands are empty, some of the letters on the wall have fallen off and it smells like thick smoke. This room is ravaged but not burnt like the rest. Steve gets the message. The future is on fire. His idea of the future is burning. 

He rips down the stairs so fast he’s tumbling into the wall adjacent and the air leaves his lungs with a loud whoosh that’s echoed around the charred room. He notices a different hall that leads to the kitchen, there’s a door open halfway between the kitchen where he’s standing and his feet move before his brain can shout at them not to. The basement, obviously it’s going to be the basement. 

He sees himself pacing in front of a lounging couch, the basement is set up as some kind of trendy bar scene. There’s the bar, bottles shelved on the wall with pale white back-lighting on them. It’s white and gold marble, everything sleek and otherworldly almost. Too tasteful for Steve alone to have created this. Billy’s sat on one of the bar stools, bottle on the bar top near him but he’s resolutely not touching it. It’s obvious that there’s tension between the two of them, Steve’s pulling at his hair as he paces and Billy’s robotic almost. 

“Why?” Steve sighs. “Why did this happen?” 

Billy licks his lips. “Please?” He sighs back. 

“Billy--” Steve nearly shouts. 

“Steve, they’ll be here any minute, can we just… put this away until later? Please?”

“You just told me, literally JUST told me, how can I go back out there? Our friends? Do they know how this happened?” He’s all fire, spark and bite and vitriol poisoning the lines of his mouth and body. 

“I’m sorry, baby, god, I’m so sorry.” Billy’s voice breaks and Steve watches himself pause. Watches his face break like fine China when they both realize that Billy is crying. 

“My baby died too, Steve.” Billy cries openly. Both Steves have tears dripping down their cheeks now too.

He watches himself take a deep breath and cross the room to Billy. He watches how he doesn’t hesitate to slide his hands around Billy’s shoulders, to kiss the side of his temple and whisper to Billy how much he loves him and he’s sorry for being selfish when they’ve always done this together. 

“Together.” Steve whispers to himself while he watches them wipe each other’s tears off their cheeks and link their fingers together. 

He wakes up in Hawkins. He wakes up in the Wheeler’s house in Hawkins. Alexendra is watching him closely, her eyes guarded but not completely cold. 

“You’re very open.” She says. “Open book. That was… intense, Steve Harrington.” 

“Did you create that?” He snaps, rubs at his eyes. He looks around the room, they’re in the basement and Steve shudders. 

“I… I opened the door, yes. But you stepped through it.” She doesn’t seem upset, she doesn’t sound ashamed either. 

“You were looking for something, then. Did you find what you needed inside my head or was that like watching a movie to you?” He jumps off the couch he’s laying on and mutters a sharp “what the fuck” as he takes the steps two at a time out of the basement and into the Wheeler’s kitchen. 

The first person he runs into is Murray. Murray must see the flighty look in his eyes or notice the way he can’t catch his breath and pulls Steve immediately into the family room and directly to Billy. 

“He’s panicking. Fix him.” Murray’s voice is edging on panicked himself, fingers squeezing tightly onto Steve’s shoulders. 

“Woah, woah, woah!” Dustin yells and Steve jerks his head in a wince at the noise. 

“Okay, okay, shit, pretty boy.” Billy whispers to himself, throws down the cards he was holding in his hands and oh-- that’s apparently a thing now. Billy and Will are playing cards, Jane sitting just off Billy’s shoulder on the back of the couch, leaning in like she was telling him which cards to play while Mike was antagonizing Lucas behind Will’s shoulder. 

Seeing Billy surrounded by the kids is… strange. Good. But still so strange. 

“C’mon man, let’s go upstairs where it’s quiet.” Billy says, limping still but ever so slightly. 

Steve lets out a weird sobbing noise as they pass Nancy’s room and Billy whispers a quiet “sorry.” It’s not Billy’s fault that Nancy got hurt. It wasn’t even Billy’s fault that they were back at the Wheeler’s. But Billy has this… thing about holding onto guilt even when he was never guilty. 

Hearing him apologize quietly sends him reeling back into the-- memory? dream?-- whatever it was and he blinks back tears again. Steve can’t stop watching Billy’s face. Watches the little twitches of his brows when he furrows them in thought, the wrinkle to his nose when a technique he tries doesn’t work with Steve not even paying attention. He watches Billy lick his lips as he watches Steve intently back. 

Minutes of direct eye contact and Steve doesn’t even feel weird about it. Eye contact was never something Steve sought out, it was a tactic he used to be charming and get his way. Never a reassuring or comforting thing. His dad demanded eye contact from Steve when he was kid, punished him if he couldn’t maintain it while his dad berated him. 

Billy’s gaze feels like a feather, it’s light and warming. Steve blinks and they’re in a different room, a house only held in his mind. They’re watching each other again, Billy smiles lightly and reaches a hand up to Steve’s face. Steve closes his eyes as his cheek is cradled in Billy’s warm hand and when he opens his eyes again he’s still looking at Billy, except they’re back in the Wheeler’s and Billy isn’t touching his face.

He knows he needs to talk about what just happened with Alexendra. He needs Billy to know that she’s snooping for something. That maybe bringing them here wasn’t ideal, not in the slightest but that all stops because suddenly Billy is touching him. He’s gripping Steve’s hand and Steve looks down at them. Slides his fingers through Billy’s and grips back. Slender fingers, two different levels of pale skin, prominent knuckles from fighting, calluses and all Steve can breathe is a simple “together.” 

Billy blinks once, twice, a small smile plays at his lips and his voice is so warm when he breathes back “together.” 

Someone sends Robin and Heather up for them when there’s apparently food ready. Karen and Joyce are dancing around each other in the kitchen, pulling food from the oven or off the stove while the other is reaching for the microwave or pulling plates from cabinets. Karen looks like she hasn’t slept since Nancy left the house. Steve could believe it. Mike sticks close with Karen, she looks shocked and then overjoyed about it. Jane sits between Heather and Billy, Steve on Billy’s other side, hands still clutching together under the table as they awkwardly maneuver their forks. 

It feels like a statement. By Robin’s eyebrow wiggle he knows it is. Billy’s thumb along his knuckles feels like a declaration. 

Steve keeps breathing, keeps eating and listening to the conversation. Both of the Wheeler’s dining rooms are filled with people. Most of them feel like family to Steve. He’s glad he can look around the room and find faces of people who at the very least respect him. Dustin keeps shooting him looks and even mouths to him “I can’t believe you.” When Steve makes an affronted face Dustin rolls his eyes but he’s smiling nonetheless. 

Jonathan stops in to make plates for Nancy and himself, checks in with Joyce and Will before thanking Karen and heading back upstairs. Murray and Ted have an awkward conversation going where Hopper keeps interjecting asshole comments and receiving glares for his efforts. 

It’s unreal. 

It’s amazing. 

He lets go of Billy’s hand to excuse himself from the table and wonders as he makes his way out to the back patio why he feels fear curling in the pit of his stomach. 

Eddie Dominique was dead. They had an exorcism gone wrong, Eddie was a casualty of that. Steve still feels like he has black goo and blood stuck under his nails. 

It feels like something has ended.

But Steve can’t remember it. He’s looking out into the thick woods and trying to remember how they had pulled the Mind Flayer from Eddie, how had that ended? How’d they get here?

For a split second the woods look like they’re on fire. 

Billy’s screaming in the back of his head, wretched and foul screams of pain. Steve turns to hear better, and like film being projected from a hot bulb for too long the peace burns through. 

Alexendra faces him when he wakes up in the snow at the quarry and he scrambles away from her quick with a pained groan. 

“You fucking--” he pukes, “FUCK.” The group around them is watching him with varying degrees of pain and sympathy. 

“Is he okay? Is he going to be okay?” Mike demands, shoving out from behind Hopper and getting into Steve’s face. “Harrington, what year did you break up with my sister?” 

“She broke up with me.” He groans and Mike claps his cheek.

“Fuck, what’s something someone knows personally about you that they can question?” Mike looks around. 

“Who is Everett?” Billy asks and that’s just… no. 

Steve pukes again before he can answer. “My grandfather.” Dustin loudly confirms that this is correct. Billy’s watching him with a weird look in his eye. 

“What the fuck happened?” Steve coughs out. He looks down at his hands and there’s thin black lines covering his palms. He blinks and they’re still there. “What the fuck, what the fuck why is there fucking--”

“Eddie attacked you, Steve. We had to put him down.” Ethan says, like he’s regarding a child. His tone is snide, eyes are piercing and Steve’s rolling over to push himself up and get back into his face.

“Why the fuck was she in my head, asshole?” He pushes Ethan’s shoulders and everyone’s jumping in at once. The only people standing behind are Billy and Alexendra. They’re looking directly at each other and Billy makes a motion with his hand that Alexendra nods once at. 

“What the fuck.” Steve gasps, allows himself to be pulled back, looks into the eyes of Murray and blinks rapidly. “What the fuck is going on?” 

Murray looks around at the group before meeting Steve’s gaze. “Eddie gave you the Upside Down.” He says like he’s a doctor giving a prognosis. Like Steve’s been sentenced to death. 

“Can’t someone else take it?” He mutters quietly as he looks down at his hands again. Does that mean that the fucking shadow monster has control of Steve now too? “What the fuck does any of this mean?”

“It means that we’re done here.” Hopper says. Steve looks beyond him and there’s a body floating on the top of the quarry. Eddie. “It means that I get this cleaned up and we reconvene on what we’re doing at the cabin.” 

The last place Steve wants to go back to is the fucking cabin. Billy must read it in his face, must see something there because he’s pushing through to Steve, nearly shoves Mike off the ledge in his path. Heather comes to Steve’s other side and the three of them glance between each other.

“You need to tell him.” Heather whispers and Billy glares down at her. 

“Mind your business.” He’s cold but Heather just smiles placidly.

“He’s involved in this now too. You need to tell him.” 

“Can someone just fucking tell me something? Please?” Steve begs.

“Hive mind.” Heather mumbles. 

It takes a second but it clicks. He thinks back to tunnels and Dustin explaining the demodogs being hive mind. He’s infected and Heather’s trying to cotton him onto the meaning but if she means what he thinks she means he really was just served a death sentence. 

“You mean if that thing-- if we kill it, we die too?” Steve whispers and Heather won’t look at him. She nods slightly just once and Steve turns to puke again. 

“That’s just a theory!” Max exclaims and Steve just stares up at the blank and cold sky. 

The future really is on fire. He doesn’t know how much he wants that future anymore anyways, considering. He just wants a possibility of a future now. 

“But. We’re in this. Together.” Billy breaks through, moving his head to catch Steve’s eye when he flickers his gaze down. “We’re a team, remember?” 

“Kicking and screaming.” He mumbles back and Billy huffs a laugh.

“Yeah. Yeah, man, kicking and screaming like fucking banshees.” 

In the following days Steve processes what happened at the quarry. They had shown up and Eddie had been nearly explosive with rage. Hopper had trouble keeping control of the situation and things quickly spiraled. There was a struggle and Steve had been the closest, like a fuckin’ moron, and Eddie had attacked. Steve didn’t remember the attack, just the initial shock. The details that Robin gives him that she had gotten from Heather weren’t pretty. 

Basically Alexendra creating his worst fever dream was actually her saving his life. 

He’ll agree once he’s done being pissy about it. 

Billy’s the only one that won’t fill him in on details he missed. But he does ask a question that burns Steve to the core.

“You kept, uh, kept saying my name. What was that about?” It’s quiet, like he’s scared of the answer. 

Steve’s not entirely sure how to answer so he doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything and Billy walks away with a huff and all Steve can think is that he’s a fucking coward. 

So he pulls a trick from his old playbook and corners Billy in the shower of the cabin again. This time, Billy’s already showered and has most of his clothes on so Steve runs with it and decides to wiggle the keys to the car in front of his face.

“Drive?” He asks. 

The last time he did this Billy had made a joke about Steve being a puppy and Steve turned on his heel and tossed the keys behind him and directly into Billy’s hand without another word. 

This time Billy looks wary. 

They don’t talk, at all, until they’re fifteen miles outside of Hawkins. 

“Do you ever think about kids?” Steve asks and Billy sucks in a sharp breath. 

“Not since before.” He doesn’t clarify before what. 

“That was part of that… dream thing Alexendra did in my head.” Steve looks out his window, watching the vague shapes of darkness pass by with speed. “Really freaked me out.” 

“Sorry.” Billy mumbles.

“For what?” Steve sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It supposedly saved my life, right?”

“Right.” But Billy didn’t sound convinced.

“Anyways, I always pictured having kids. A family. The All American Dream thing. A-and in my dream, there was a boy. My boy.” 

“Everett.” Billy grinds out. 

Steve watches him closely but decides to say nothing, ultimately. Billy’s breathing has gone harsh. Moments pass of painful quiet and Steve makes a decision that’s going to change everything. 

“He wasn’t just my boy, though.” Steve whispers and Billy jerks to look at him. He sees the realization on Billy’s face, that Steve isn’t talking about a future son that he’s talking about a future partner. That he’s talking about Billy.

The bubble bursts, the moment flings itself out the window and into oncoming traffic. Billy stops the car on the side of the road and pulls himself out into the freezing night air. Steve stays where he’s at, leaves his seat belt on and just stares blankly out of the windshield. 

The possibility of a future that appealing seems farther than ever now.


	21. Loose lips sink ships

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, hello ;) 
> 
> in the time since we've last met I have lost my job and my sanity with this virus pandemic. staying home gives me so much anxiety but for the safety at large I'm pushing through it. I hope everyone else is staying in good health and practicing extreme hygiene, desperate times and measures eh? 
> 
> with this seemingly endless amount of free time: expect multiple updates in the days coming! 
> 
> pushing myself into more character development through Max is surprisingly the best outlet so far, this might be extending through The Party or at least giving a few split perspectives along the way (which is, ironically, NOT something I am good at). so we also have that to look forward to, either in main line or extras. 
> 
> I'm so sorry this is so short considering how long it's been since a main update but!! Max gives us some gritty details that Steve wasn't exactly in the right mind to pick up and process. hopefully that's enough until our next meeting, fingers crossed I don't go cross eyed after getting 10k in l o l 
> 
> also, if you want to talk virus updates or how much of a RATT fan you think Billy would be hit me up on tumblr! @hellfirebilly

Her mom always told her that having fire red hair was a blessing. She also said it helped notify others to the temper she wields as well. Max never liked that part of the compliment. 

She stays quiet through the trip to Florida and back, pretends she knows exactly what is going on regardless of Steve’s breakdowns when they think no one else is paying attention. 

El tells her that it’s normal for adults to get frustrated. Max knows this, maybe all too well, but it doesn’t change the fact that there’s something monumentally fucked up with Billy and they’re all hopeless to figure it out and help him. 

There’s always been something monumentally fucked up with Billy. Usually it’s six foot four, awful lip caterpillar and military strict in every aspect. But now it’s worse, which is… something she never considered before. Didn’t feel like it was a consideration. Billy couldn’t be touched by this part of life that only she knew about within their family. She sometimes thinks she’s brought this on him, sometimes blames Lucas for involving her. 

Sometimes she hates Hawkins. 

Hell, most times she hates Hawkins. Loves the people she’s met and connections she’s made, enjoys how close knit the community is even when it ails her. 

Nothing compares to California. Billy’s the only one who knew what that felt like.

She feels worse for wear, wary of going home in a way she only distantly felt and usually only felt that way when she knew Billy was going to be in trouble. She stops, brings herself up short and doesn’t let the anxious tumbling of words leave her throat. 

There’s something monumentally fucked up with Billy. Not just his short cropped hair where there used to be wild curls, not his bad posture where his shoulders shrink in instead of his ever blooming confidence, not his fearful gaze in turn of the fire that once burned all it sought. 

He doesn’t look at her when they get back. The girl that’s by him won’t look at her either, eyes trained on Steve who’s still just sitting in the fucking car. 

Lucas greets her first, a solid embrace of warmth and the smell of castor oil lingering around his shoulders. It feels more comforting than any hug she’s gotten from anyone. His hands rub at her back and shoulders, he mumbles softly how glad he is to see her. Asks her if she’s okay, if she wants to talk about what happened. 

Sometimes Lucas treats her with kid gloves on, takes her mood swings and babies her over it. Until she snaps and bitches and he asks where he went wrong, how can he comfort her better, what isn’t he allowed to make comments about. 

He watches his dad too closely, Max thinks. 

It’s patronising, sometimes. When he tries to better himself for her, sometimes she thinks if she wasn’t so fucked up that maybe Lucas wouldn’t have to feel like that. 

They’ve been together for so long now that Max wonders if he gets bored of her bullshit, wonders if he’s waiting for the day she cracks right open and gives him a reason to leave forever. 

Wonders if that’s how her mom felt and how Neil caught her. 

Shit, her hands are shaking.

So she pushes back from Lucas, with a whispered ‘maybe later’ and looks around the cabin. Jonathan is passed out on the floor, there’s sheets covered in red everywhere and Dustin is screeching over Mike to get Steve’s involvement. 

It seems like a lifetime later that her mind, rushing and blank at the same time, snaps back into working and she pushes herself back out of the cabin. Lucas’ eyes flash something she can’t explain and then he nods once, like he fucking gets it, like he knows what she needs. He doesn’t follow her, instead he turns to Will and they have a whispered and brief conversation. 

Mike shoves past her, follows behind Joyce and then scoffs when Heather shoots him a weird look. 

“Shouldn’t you be looking after your sister?” Heather asks, voice blank of any intonation. Max can see Mike’s shoulders bunching to his ears, the defensive stance he puts himself in right before he says something bitchy and rude. She puts her hand on his shoulder and shoves him towards the door, not wasting time to move into the spot she’s removed him from.

He sighs, drags it out like this is super inconvenient, before he crosses the threshold and Max returns her gaze out to where Steve is brushing past Billy, their conversation too quiet for her ears to pick up, then Steve brushing past her to get inside. Billy’s steps are slow and painful, she narrows her eyes as she watches him lean against the car and light a cigarette. 

She knows Billy too well, honestly. Knows his tells when he’s lying or scared, knows his hairline triggers on his anger, knows how he looks and acts when he’s genuinely happy and okay. 

There’s something monumentally fucked up with Billy, Max is certain. She paces the steps and out to him, calls out a warning when he seems like he’s going to back his bark up with a bite. Lifts a shaking hand out, not for the first time, to reveal the damage. The black veins are slithering across his body and he smells the worst kind of wrong… She wonders if they’ve lost him again, briefly, while Steve’s panic takes control and Billy passes out. 

She wonders if Billy knows how monumentally fucked he is. A voice in the back of her head says that there’s no way he doesn’t know, a voice that sounds like Neil demands she get her ass away from him as soon as possible. She tells herself there’s no way he doesn’t already know that something is wrong with him. Begs herself to believe it when his eyes open again and notes that the black of his pupils pulse minutely. 

She has to bite her lip to hold back the curses when she turns to see Will standing atop the steps to the cabin, eyes wide in fear and hand holding the back of his neck. 

Steve’s loading Billy into the car before she finds the courage to say something and even then it’s a whisper lost in the sound of the car firing up and Robin urging her to come inside.


	22. A thousand voices howling in my head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeeeeeeeey
> 
> this one's small, cause I'm reworking my timeline and trying to get all of the plot points to make sense respectively. I promise the next installment will be of valued length and detail :) cause shit is going to hit the fan :) and it might be awhile til the next real bit of a calm spot so this will have to tide us over
> 
> did i mention in the tags about gratuitous warm/cold references because.... this one probably has the most use of that l o l 
> 
> thank you for everyone's support and for hanging in as long as you have!! it's meant so much to me you guys don't even know :^)

He’s entirely too used to cold. The feeling, the sensation, the hollowness it leaves behind, the drastic panic that ensues to assure himself that he's still the same. It’s something that he’s acclimated to. Something he was forced to acclimate to in order to try to survive. He’s used to being cold, spitting ice and the burning of his frozen lungs. Being cold was almost a right of passage for Hargrove men, apparently. Keeping a cool exterior demeanor, using their coldness to make others painfully miserable, exploding with icy vitriol. Being held captive in an underground Russian base, braving the cold scientist’s examinations, listening to them use a dreary tone to talk about him, sending shivers up his spine when he couldn’t recognize the words. 

He’s used to the cold shoulder, too. Used to being brushed off, passed by like he doesn’t exist. Usually it’s not as difficult as this. Steve hasn’t spoken to him in three days and everyone is shooting him looks like he’s made a serious faux pas. He thinks he should listen to Heather when she tries to fill him in, or at least not try so fucking hard to push her away the next time she approaches. 

It started with the death of Eddie Dominique. 

They had arrived at the quarry and it was pure chaos. Hopper’s nose was broken, Peter was holding back Alexendra while Ethan was panting on his back. Jane’s nose was bleeding rivers, she was breathing harshly and Eddie was just fucking laughing from where he was sat almost directly in the middle of them all. Billy jerked forward when he noticed Steve edging around towards Hopper but Eddie caught sight of him before he could do anything. 

Without a seconds pause, Steve was across the way and Eddie had him by the throat. The veins in his hand had pulsed and then they both dropped to the ground, like they’d blacked out. Only, Eddie got back up with gasping breaths and curses. He had maybe ten seconds before Billy was over him, punching with left and right hands, smacking his head into the ground roughly. When arms circled around him and pulled him back, he drooped and allowed himself to be manhandled away. But it was the wrong call, Billy should’ve finished what he’d started.

Eddie attached himself to Ethan, digging his nails into any part he could reach and scratching hard enough to draw blood. Ethan was grunting and scrappling awkwardly at the hold that Eddie had on him, long seconds before his hand met Eddie’s chest and Eddie went over the edge and plummeted into the quarry. Billy barely even felt the tingle in the back of his head as he pushed out, could only hear his heart racing in his ears and not a single peep from Eddie. Arms dropped him abruptly. He stared up at the cold winter sky for long seconds.

Billy looked around at the blurry faces of complete shock before he broke the still and rushed forward to Steve. Shaking his shoulder he watched the black ichor lines run from his throat and under his coat. He looked helplessly up to Hopper, then to Ethan before he settled on Alexendra. 

“You know how to help him.” He said, voice broken and near a whisper. She shook her head. “You could try.” He urged. 

She paused and then slowly turned her head to look to Ethan. He nodded once and then she sat on her knees at Steve’s head before sliding her palms over his temples. Long minutes passed, Billy had nothing to focus on except the sounds of the people around him breathing. Robin was closest to him, Max wavering slightly behind her. He didn’t want or need some kind of pity comfort, he needed some resolutions. Steve had been right.

“We came into this half assed and look where we’re fucking at.” He said as he tried to keep his voice blank but he knew he’d failed when Heather levelled him a look. 

“Quiet.” Alexendra said, brows furrowing over her closed eyes. 

Steve was breathing, Billy could see the way his chest moved, his fingers twitched a few times at his sides. 

He mumbled something soft, winced and then took a full breath in. 

“Billy.” Steve mumbled and everyone’s eyes slid to him. Robin glanced at Billy before looking back to Steve, but Heather’s gaze never wavered. 

It felt wrong, almost. For everyone around them to be witnessing this. Steve started groaning, grunts of sharp pain and near shouts of Billy’s name. He yelled Everett twice. Billy’s eye twitched, a long ago memory resurfacing of a time he was able to close his eyes and find Steve. A dream within a dream of a house, a family with two dads and a son. A private dream that Billy never should’ve been able to access. A boundary that was crossed that he felt so shameful about that he left Steve alone for weeks after seeing it. 

Alexendra wasn’t able to pull anything from him in the way that Billy was expecting. He was expecting her to be able to remove what Eddie had transferred, but when Steve startled away, tears fresh on his face and puking before he could even take a breath, Billy knew she had failed. 

He walked away. Better to freeze it off than to die burning from it. 

Then all the things Steve said on their drive just... burned Billy. He knew what Steve was saying, but the idea that Steve dreamt of any of those things including Billy? Instant flame, instant burning. The iceman was on fire. He got out of the car and smoked for half an hour before slipping back in and taking them to the cabin without saying a single fucking word. 

It was hard to form sentences correctly when you learned someone planned a future with you in it, okay? At least that was his excuse when Robin’s thunderous face watched him cross the cabin and back. He felt like a fucking coward, he didn’t want to pretend that nothing had happened and that there wasn’t anything between them. He felt the connection, the electric current that kept his hair standing on end whenever Steve was even within feet of him. 

“Are you fucking stupid, Billy?” Heather nearly shouts. They’re out in the woods behind the cabin, cause Billy couldn’t take being inside anymore and Hopper and the other ‘adults’ left to figure out some leads from here and even after last night Steve still wouldn’t fucking look at him. 

“Yes.” He says shortly and stomps farther from her through the snow. 

She’d dropped the bomb about prom, opened Billy’s eyes to a possibility he’s been waiting a lifetime for. There’s a joke about timing that his mom used to say when she got caught up on a project for too long but it’s been years since he’s heard it and it slips through his mind like sand through fingers. 

“No, Billy, stop. I’m sorry.” She sighs, fixes her hat over her ears and catches up to him in bounding steps. “Look, you don’t exactly have to talk to him about what happened. But letting him know you need some processing time wouldn’t kill you either.” 

“You mean, it’s not the end of the world because we both fantasized futures for each other when we were in extreme situations of life changing danger? And it turns out that it was almost identical fantasies? You mean that makes it real?” Billy wishes he could roll over and show his belly, enjoy anything Steve is willing to give him for however long but he knows the consequences would be worse for him in the end. 

He feels a chill down his spine that isn’t from the temperature drop. 

“I just think, with my limited amount of knowledge, that this might be more real than you’re willing to allow it to be.” She says it softly, looking up at him with her big brown eyes.

He wonders why he never felt drawn to Heather more than their brief friendship. She’s exactly his type. Baby brown eyes that flutter when she speaks nice, a lovely smile and banging body. She bites back but harder when Billy snaps his teeth. She’s basically a walking talking wet dream.

And there it is, god damnit. The one chip in the frozen exterior. His fatal flaw. Other than the soul crushing shadow monster flaw.

He keeps having to remind himself to stay present. Can’t afford a distraction right now.

“But you think that with the amount of shit going on, that this takes importance? We have to make it out alive first. Let me figure my shit out before I even think about getting into anything with anyone.”

“That’s the most mature thing I’ve ever heard you say, Hargrove.” She jokes, puts a hand to her chest before giving him an approving look and Billy finally gives a small grin. 

“But he knows that it is a possibility.” He says it quiet, like speaking it out loud is going to bring everything crashing down on his head. He can’t meet her eyes and he blushes more than he’ll ever admit. 

“You talked?” Heather asked.

“Not in depth but enough to be on the same page.” Billy shrugs. “I’m bad at talking about things, he’s too good at just accepting what’s given to him and I don’t want it to go to shit because I can’t be good enough for him.” He feels raw, putting all of this out in the air between them. 

As if he’s defrosting. 

Heather’s eyes are a little watery when he chances a glance over to her, her mouth open in an obvious gape. She blinks quickly a few times before smiling at him widely.

“Wow, you really fucking like him.” She says it dreamily, like they’re in fucking middle school and talking about their crushes under the bleachers while they hide from the gym teacher. Like the idea of two guys being together wasn’t anything to blink at. Like he wasn’t raised to feel sick about that specific part of himself. Like the prospect of Billy’s happiness was worth all of the ostracizing and anguish. 

But, maybe… a little warmth wasn’t going to be the end of him.

**Author's Note:**

> comments, questions or even kind complaints are always welcome!!
> 
> you can find me on tumblr @hellfirebilly :)


End file.
